Training Master Mindelan
by Silverlake
Summary: A look at Kel's experiences juggling motherhood and her position as training master. And a chronicle of the lives of Neal's and Alanna's squires. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Kel blinked and glanced drowsily out the window

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed The Scarlet Shield; and thank you for all of your encouragement to continue the story a little farther. I'm planning to make this a series of one-shots about Kel's life as a training master, so they probably won't be strung together by a central plot (the upside to this is that there won't be any real clif-hangers.) This is a sequel to The Scarlet Shield so if you haven't read that you may be confused as to how Kel and Dom came to be asleep in the training master's quarters with a one-year-old in the next room. This story takes place before the final scene of the epilogue of The Scarlet Shield. (so Kefira and Tobe are one and twelve.) _

_Disclaimer: These are Tamora Pierce's characters; I would be a starving college student if it weren't for peanut butter and instant oatmeal. _

Kel blinked and glanced drowsily out the window. It was dawn; she ought to be getting up if she wanted to meet the queen and her ladies for morning glaive practice. She was just about to kick back the covers when a warm muscular arm wrapped itself around her waist. Dom was still fast asleep, having ridden past nightfall to reach Corus on their daughter's first birthday. Never mind about glaive practice, Kel thought as she snuggled closer to Dom and pulled the covers up over both of them. He visits so rarely, Kel thought as she drifted back to sleep, might as well make the most of it when he does.

Two minutes later, Kefira's crying woke her. She moaned and sat up. Dom wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked with her into the next room, which served as a bedroom for Kefira. Tobe was already there, scooping her out of her crib.

"She doesn't approve of sleeping late," he muttered as he passed her into Kel's arms.

"I wonder where she gets that from," Dom said as her sobs ceased.

"Not her mother," said Kel. "Even I wanted to sleep in this morning."

"Ah, well, her father is a terrible influence," said Dom as he leaned over to kiss Kel and then pulled Kefira into his arms and kissed her forehead. Kel sighed and left Dom to change Kefira's diaper under Tobe's careful supervision while she dressed herself.

There's something to be said for breakfast as a family, Kel thought as she and Tobe watched Dom blow on a spoonful of porridge to cool it for Kefira. Feeding her was still a complete novelty to him, and she and Tobe were enjoying the opportunity to eat their own breakfast without interruptions. She was also looking forward to leaving Kefira with him when she left for the training grounds instead of carrying her while she supervised the pages and squires' morning exercise and weapons training.

The bell came too quickly. Kel got reluctantly to her feet and kissed Dom and Kefira.

"You'd best get a move on now too, Tobe," she said, "as you're supposed to meet the Wildmage in the stables."

Tobe shook his head furiously and Kel thought she saw tears welling in his eyes. "No," he said loudly, "I'm not going. Why can't I just stay with Dom today?"

"But—" Kel began.

"Please, don't make me," Tobe muttered. "She's a goin' to make me try shifting again today, and last time I got stuck as a horse for a whole day."

"But that was months ago," Kel said, reasonably. "She wouldn't be asking again unless she thought you were ready. How are you going to learn if you won't even try?"

"Who says I want to learn anyways?" Tobe said. "I hate having to do things just because you think that they're good for me. I won't do it," he shouted and then stormed from the room, leaving Kel staring after him in astonishment. She'd assumed he'd gotten over his difficulty shifting back to human form. He'd seemed excited about his magic and his work with the Wildmage, but then she hadn't had much time to talk with him lately; she'd been so busy looking after Kefira and planning a fall camping trip for the pages.

Kel started to hurry after Tobe but Dom stopped her, laying warm fingers over her shoulder.

"You're running late already," he said quietly. "I'll talk to him." And, still holding Kefira, he walked after Tobe.

Kel was soon forced to push all thoughts of Tobe to the back of her mind. She had her hands full correcting stances and her eyes busy spotting emerging fights as the pages trained in hand-to-hand combat. A few of the older male pages had conservative fathers and seemed to believe it was their duty to the realm to undermine Kel's authority by starting fights and bullying the handful of female pages. Meanwhile, two of the newest female pages, Kirsa and Selina, would only work with each other unless Kel walked over and reminded them that they would have to defeat men on the battlefield and that they ought to prepare by defeating boys in the practice courts.

Her mood had improved slightly by the time the pages began their sword work. Undoubtedly, this had much to do with watching Penelope, a slight fourteen-year-old page, defeat three opponents who were nearly twice her size.

She shrugged happily when Kel came over to congratulate her. "The morning glaive practice has strengthened my arms, lady knight. I wish you'd been there this morning, though, I very nearly bested the queen."

"I'll be there tomorrow to watch when you actually best her," Kel said, glad that she had successfully convinced all of the girl pages to give up an hour's sleep in order to train with glaives.

MMMM

Tobe ran up to her while she stood waiting for the pages to tack and mount their horses. He stopped a few feet in front of her and looked down, hesitant and red-faced, as he shuffled his feet.

"I've come to apologize for my outburst this morning," he said in an oddly formal tone. "I didn't mean what I said about hating it when you tell me what to do. I just got scared that if I got stuck as a pony you'd want me to stay that way so you and Dom could raise your family without my being in the way."

"Oh," Kel said. She reached out to ruffle his hair and then realized that he'd grown to tall for her to reach to top of his head easily. She settled for shaking his hand. "Apology accepted. I wouldn't be able to manage Kefira without you, so even if you were a pony I'd have to keep you around. Though I'd prefer it if you stayed human, I might have trouble convincing the queen to let me enlarge the door of the training master's suite." Tobe grinned at her and she reached over and hugged him before he could protest. "Now, get back to Daine," she told him, shooing him away. He grinned back at her one last time as he trotted off.

Kel had just finished handing out lances in order to start the pages with jousting practice when Dom appeared, dressed in uniform.

"I don't know what you said to Tobe after I left," she said, "but you seem to have worked a small miracle…"

She trailed off when she saw that he wasn't smiling.

"There's been a giant attack," he said grimly. "I've been called away." Kel carefully leaned the spare lance against the fence and walked over to him. "Look, with any luck I'll be back in few days and we'll talk more about Tobe, and everything, then." He reached out and grabbed her elbow. "I left Kefira with Neal," he muttered. He leaned over to kiss her.

They both intended it to be a brief kiss, but a small traitorous whisper in the back of Kel's mind reminded her that she might not see Dom again for days, if ever, and before she found herself wrapping her arms around him and refusing to let go. They broke apart when someone whistled.

"I love you," Dom whispered as he turned to leave. "And I'm afraid completely ruined any possibility of improving these rascals this morning." He blew one last kiss and departed, leaving Kel to turn and face her charges. The younger ones were staring at her as though she had grown antlers and the older ones all wore amused smirks.

"Form lines!" Kel bellowed. She did the best to ignore the burning sensation across her cheeks and maintain a semblance of dignity as she instructed them to ride at the dummies.

"I knew you'd have a good reason for missing glaive practice this morning," Penelope remarked as returned to the line for her second turn.

Kel scowled and swatted at the girl's leg. "Need I remind you that, prodigy or no, you will qualify for punishment duty if you are insubordinate."

"But, I wasn't being insubordinate, lady knight," Penelope said sweetly. "I was merely agreeing with your priorities."

I'm going to have to be very careful when I select a knight master for her, Kel thought, smiling as she watched Gregory, the son of the conservative Lord Gerard, miss his target and get whacked across the shoulders.

**MMMM**

Neal was reading aloud to Kefira and his daughter, Nessaren, when Kel walked in to the infirmary. Both babies were staring at him wide-eyed as he enthusiastically enacted scenes from the battle he was describing with his hands. Kel smiled, the story was about Kefira's namesake, one of Tortall's ancient warrior maidens.

"So when did you become a teacher?" Kel asked.

"When Dom and Yuki became very busy and couldn't find anyone else to take care of our delightful offspring," Neal said, gesturing at the crib. He closed his book and tossed it onto the desk. "I didn't even know Dom was here until he came and told me he had to leave."

"He'd only been here a few hours," Kel said sadly. "He got in late last night and the training master's rooms are on the opposite side of the palace from yours." She walked over to the crib and scooped Kefira out. "What?" she asked, upon seeing Neal's smirk.

"It just seems very strange, you and Dom living there," Neal said. "It doesn't bother you to live in the same room that the Stump spent so many years in?"

"Lord Wyldon's mellowed into quite the radical in his old age," Kel remarked. "It wouldn't surprise me if I found myself instructing one of his granddaughters in the future."

Neal gave a spluttering cough. "What about the fact that you live in the same room once occupied by haMinch?"

"I try not to think about that too often," Kel admitted.

"Maybe your lack of imagination is a blessing."

"Speaking of blessings," Daine said as she entered carrying Sarralyn, "would you mind watching her for a few hours? The queen's mare is having a difficult birth and Numair's in the middle of an experiment."

"Why me?" Neal asked. "And what does this have to do with blessings?"

"Well," said Daine, "not much,"—she paused, wrinkling her forehead in thought—" other than that you are a blessing for busy mothers."

Neal gave an exasperated shrug and took Sarralyn from her arms.

"By the way," Daine said, addressing Kel. "Tobe's pretty tired. I'd let him sleep for a while and don't make him leave the room if he doesn't want to. Remind him that the tail should be gone tomorrow morning."

"Tail?" Kel repeated.

"It's to be expected," Daine reassured her. "I spent a great deal of time walking around on squirrel feet during my first shape-sheeting experiences; it made boots very uncomfortable." She waved at Sarralyn and left before Kel could voice another question.

**MMMM**

A week later, a royal command regarding glaive training had been issued, and Kel found herself distributing glaives to all of the pages, while Gregory muttered remarks about "women's weapons" and "upstart commoners who bewitch the King's Own soldiers." Kel paired him off with Penelope and tried not to take too much satisfaction out of watching her defeat him easily.

Instead she turned to Petran and Deric, two first years who were struggling to master the necessary sweeping motion. She switched Kefira onto her left hip and walked over to help. Within minutes, she had fixed their stances and grips, but they were still unable to manage to long weapons.

"That's it," Kel said finally. "We're doing pattern dances."

"Dances?" said Deric apprehensively, taking a step backwards.

"Yes," said Kel firmly. "It's where I should have started." She reached out a hand and took his glaive. "Hold her," she said, thrusting Kefira into his arms before he could object.

Deric looked down at her in alarm. "But I don't know anything about—"

"Are you objecting to an order?" she asked.

"I'm not—No!" He stammered. Kefira reached up and punched his shoulder with a small fist. "I mean alright, I'll try."

"Watch carefully," Kel instructed before performing a simple pattern dance.

She turned back to Petran and Deric when she had finished. They were both staring at her in awe, and neither one was holding her child.

"Where's—" she began.

And then Dom stepped forward. He was limping badly and he had one arm looped over a chestnut pony—Tobe, Kel realized. He held Kefira with his free arm. Kel rushed over to him.

"I didn't drop her," she heard Deric say in a breathless tone.

Dom swayed and it took the combined efforts of Kel and Tobe to catch him. Kel was barely aware of the Shang Wildcat stepping over to take over practice for the morning. She was too busy being grateful to see Neal running towards them.

**MMMM**

Dom insisted on talking to Tobe as soon as he had woken after his healing the next morning.

"I know this won't do you much good because as a younger son I don't have any land or money to pass on to you," he said, "but I'd like to adopt you."

"Really?" Tobe asked, flicking his ears forward.

"Yes," Dom said, trying not to chuckle, "strong and capable as Kel and Kefira are, I like knowing you're here with them even when I can't be. And I'd like to think of you as my son. Kel thinks of you that way too, you know. Is that alright with you?"

Tobe nodded looking from Kel to Dom in astonishment.

"We did the paperwork before his healing yesterday," Kel explained. "He insisted. Anyway, Neal agreed to be our witness."

"You do realize, dear cousin " Neal drawled quietly as he signed the papers with a flourish, "that your son has horse ears?"

"Oh, good," said Dom. "I was worried you'd damaged my vision while you were healing me."


	2. Discipline and a Decision

_I hadn't been planning to update again quite this soon but my history professor got very enthusiastic talking about how 16__th__ century cross-dressing women helped bring about the modern state by wearing breeches and subverting the social order and then he ran out of time to give us a new reading assignment. Also, your reviews were all tremendously inspiring; it's good to hear that you're enjoying this little jaunt too. (Sania: we have to have Mexican-Italian fusion night more often if it makes you review so much.) This planned series of one-shots also is slowly evolving into more of a connected story because I became fascinated with a few of the new characters I'd made for it. It will still probably read more like tv episodes than like a novel though. This particular episode takes place about 2 days after the last one. _

_All of the characters you recognize and the land of Tortall are Tamora Pierce's. Penelope is named after my roommate's plant. _

"I fell down, sir—I mean, lady knight."

Kel blinked at the fifteen-year-old fourth year page before her. "And did you fall at the same time as Gregory, Penelope, and Marcel?"

"I couldn't say, lady knight, the corridor outside the library is quite slippery," said Dalton, as he tilted his head back in order to keep blood from dripping out of his nose. His green eyes flashed with irony as he shook his dark hair away from his face.

"And an ideal habitat for bullies and their opponents," Kel muttered, passing him a handkerchief. "You will report for duty in the stables for two bells before sunset everyday until next week's camping trip. Go to the infirmary to have that fixed before you drip on the carpet. And send Penelope in, please."

Kel reached across Lord Wyldon's—she still thought of it as his desk and couldn't quite believe that she was sitting behind it—and grabbed her quill in order to list this punishment in her log. It was identical to the punishments she'd just given Gregory and Marcel. She'd gotten a bit of satisfaction out of assigning work to the two conservative pages who seemed to delight in challenging her authority, but she was disappointed to find herself punishing Dalton, who'd always treated her, and the female pages, with respect. He'd been fighting though, and if she didn't punish him equally the conservatives would be at her throat again. She'd have to punish Penelope as well.

Penelope entered and bowed. Kel surveyed her carefully. Penelope's light brown braid was a disheveled mess but she held her head high and met Kel's gaze with intense blue eyes. Penelope walked with a limp and there was a dark bruise on her right cheek; it looked as though she'd broken a few fingers.

"And where did you fall?" Kel asked as she watched Penelope gingerly pull her hands behind her back.

"I didn't fall, lady knight," she said calmly. "I had a philosophical disagreement—"

Kel raised her eyebrows, unable to believe that Penelope was about to break the unwritten page's law and turn in her opponents.

"With my horse about whether or not she ought to be groomed." She met Kel's eyes calmly. "I won."

Kel felt her lips twitch slightly. "You're lying."

"Very well—it was a draw." Penelope glanced downwards. "I'm merely withholding the entire truth. If my lady knight wishes it I will tell you that I fell down."

Kel sighed. "No, I don't need to hear that one again. You have punishment duty with the others in the stables. Go get yourself patched up in the infirmary." Penelope bowed and departed. Kel noted the punishment in her logbook and finished her list of supplies for the fall camping trip before walking to the infirmary herself.

She was just about to round the corner to the infirmary door when she heard familiar shouting voices.

"I was managing fine on my own." Kel recognized the voice as Penelope's and froze.

"Yes, managing to get yourself ground into a pulp by a couple of brutes twice your size." And that was Dalton.

"I never asked you to wade in and rescue me—"

"So, I'm not allowed to join a fight without your ladyship's permission am I? What was I supposed to do? Ignore their insults to me and my family and then just stand and watch while Marcel pinned your arms and Gregory pummeled your face—"

"I would have kicked free if—" Penelope started.

"Look, all I did was make an unfair fight into a fair one. I know you're trying to prove yourself and all, but that doesn't give you a right to be so gods-cursed stubborn all the time…"

He trailed off as Kel strode around the corner, clearing her throat loudly. They both turned and stared at her wide-eyed. Penelope's cheeks were red and blotchy and her hair had begun to come loose from its braid. Dalton had a grip on her wrist, which he dropped as though he'd been stung as soon as he was Kel.

Kel was almost as bewildered by them as they were by her. Suddenly being only six years older felt rather awkward. What would Wyldon have done? No, she told herself, that doesn't matter, I've got to do it my own way.

"I wouldn't want either of you to take another fall so soon after you've gotten yourselves patched up," she said quietly. "Or have another philosophical dispute with a stubborn animal as the case may be." They both took quick steps backwards. "If I recall correctly, you both have an essay about the Code of Knighthood due tomorrow. I suggest that you two walk back to the library and work on it." They both bowed and scurried away.

Kel shook her head and walked into the infirmary. The sight inside instantly improved her mood. Dom was propped up in bed, holding Kefira in one arm and using the other to play chess against Tobe who was perched on a stool next to his cot. It was Tobe's turn and he was watching Neal carefully as he reached towards his castle. Neal winked and twitched his chin to one side and Tobe's hand shifted to hover over his knight instead. Neal nodded quickly and Tobe took Dom's priest.

Kel walked in and sat down next to Dom. He brought his hand around her waist and she lifted Kefira onto her lap. Tobe looked worriedly from Kel to Neal.

Neal winked at Tobe and swept over. "I spent half of the morning keeping your husband in bed so that his knee can fix itself and the other half numbing your daughter's gums because she's got teeth coming in. Then, your son,"—he paused to gesture at Tobe who grinned—" came in from the stables with a nasty puncture wound from a pitchfork. And tonight," Neal raised his hands in exasperation, " you send me four of your pages, one of whom had a "philosophical disagreement" with her horse which brought back memories of our years of torture as pages. Now, what have you to say for yourself?"

"Thanks," said Kel meekly. "I've just got one question.'

Neal sighed in resignation.

"How did you keep Dom in bed so long?"

"I sat on him."

"Now Tobe," Kel began meaning to ask him how he'd managed a puncture wound.

"Look," said Tobe quickly, "no pony parts today!"

MMMM

"You'll be glad to know," Dom said, as he walked—or rather limped along leaning heavily on Kel—back to their room after Neal had released him to "the tender ministry of the lady knight."

"Glad to know what?" Kel asked as she pushed him down onto a bench so that he'd be forced to take a break and catch his breath. "You go on ahead," she told Tobe who was carrying a sleeping Kefira.

"Lord Raoul's ordered me not to return to the field for three weeks," Dom explained once he'd caught his breath again.

"Good," Kel grunted as she helped him back onto his feet. "I always knew he was a sensible man."

"Actually," Dom muttered, "I think it was more of Buri's idea. He's currently visiting her and the baby at Pirate's Swoop. So then again, the Lioness might have had something to do with it."

" They're becoming quite the co-conspirators," Kel muttered as she opened their door.

"So is dear Cousin Meathead," Dom said. He paused to kiss her before allowing himself to be toppled into bed. "He says the swelling should go down in a few days and I'll be back to normal in a week, but he suggested to my lord that their would be possibility of a re-injury if I went back to active duty too soon. Or rather, he agreed with Lady Alanna when she suggested it." He grinned at her as she sat down next to him to unlace her boots. "At any rate, I'll be able to come on your little camping expedition next week."

"Good," Kel said. "You can watch our "young lioness" and make sure she doesn't grow into a conspiratorial mastermind while I'm teaching Torall's future defenders how to survive in the wilderness." She leaned over and kissed Dom before stepping out to make sure Kefira was asleep.

"Speaking of which," said Dom as she climbed into bed beside him.

"We have to talk about Tobe and his potential shield," Kel finished, yawning.

"I believe that can wait until tomorrow, lady knight." Dom reached out and pulled her closer to him.

"Good," Kel whispered.

MMMM

Kel had trouble staying focused the next morning as she watched the pages morning exercises. Her mind kept wandering off towards Tobe. Really, she thought as she made a circuit of her charges, it's better to let Dom deal with this, Tobe talks more to Dom.

A sudden loud clacking snapped her from her thoughts. She turned and saw Penelope and Dalton running through the staff exercises at a furious pace, both glaring at each other. Kel sighed, she'd paired them together because Dalton could usually be trusted not to start an actual fight with Penelope during practice. Although, perhaps Penelope saw this as trying to give her an advantage. Kel shrugged. They weren't actually fighting, just putting a tremendous amount of aggression into their practice. They were muttering to one another too, but their words were lost in the clamor of their staffs.

"There will be no trips to the infirmary for either of you if you break fingers with that nonsense," Kel told them as she walked by. They blinked at her and then at each other before slowing their pace. Kel watched with some relief as Penelope tapped Dalton's shoulder and he shook her hand during a water break.

She was surprised to find Tobe waiting for her in Peachblossom's stall when she stepped in to feed him an apple while the pages tacked their horses.

"Does Daine know you're here?" she asked.

Tobe nodded. "I shape-shifted to run in from the back pastures. She would've too, only she says she can't shift while she's pregnant so she's going to walk back and meet me here."

"Very well," Kel said, holding the apple out to Peachblossom who took the entire thing in his mouth and began the frothy and noisy process of chewing it up. "Did Dom talk to you this morning?"

Tobe looked down at his feet and ran a hand along Peachblossom's neck. "Um, is it alright with you if I don't want to be a knight?" he mumbled. "I know you're training master and all, and I like learning glaive work and everything from you," he said, speaking so softly that Kel almost had trouble hearing him over Peachblossom's chewing. "But I really like what the Wildmage is teaching me and I've been thinking I'd rather work with horses than try for my shield. I'm still a commoner by birth even if you have adopted me and I'd feel out of place with all the nobles' kids." He looked up at Kel when he'd finished speaking. "Of course, I'll still come to weapons practice when I can," he added hastily. Peachblossom snorted, showering Kel in flecks of partially digested apple, as though warning her not to disagree.

"That's fine, as long as it's what you want to do," Kel said, privately glad that she wouldn't have to deal with the complications of having an adopted son among her pages. It was also something of a financial relief; she and Dom had calculated that they could afford to buy equipment for Tobe, but just barely. "You don't have to be a knight just because I am. No one expects that. I'm glad you still want to do weapons practice though and I hope you'll tag along on the camping trip."

"Yes, me too," said Daine as she slipped into Peachblossom's stall. Ordinarily the grumpy gelding would have objected to the crowding, but he tolerated it because he was being crowded by his three favorite humans. "It will be a good chance for you to practice with the pages' horses without any distraction from the rest of the stables." She smiled and fed Peachblossom a carrot. "And I was right," she added, "she didn't yell at you. Now I've let Silkstride and Stardust loose. I want you to go to the front paddock and call them to you without bothering any other horses."

Tobe nodded at them—Kel noticed that his motions seemed to be growing more horse-like every day—and trotted off.

"Congratulations," said Kel. "Tobe said you're expecting again."

Daine smiled. "Yes, Numair and I are hoping that things will be less, erm, complicated with this one. Of course, that means I've sworn off shifting for the next seven months or so. It shouldn't be a problem though, Tobe's yet to get into so much trouble that I can't rescue him in human form."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Kel as she and Daine began walking towards the pages riding ring.

"We had a long chat this morning, after he left Dom." Daine smiled. "He told me he admires all the knights he knows but he doesn't think he's crazy enough to be one. He talked about joining the Riders instead."

Kel gave a small snort. "And Riders aren't crazy?"

Daine shrugged. "I tried to explain that Riders are just a different kind of crazy, but I don't think it will sink in until we start working with Rider ponies."

_Please see Pride and Determination for Penelope's take on the night. _


	3. Fall Camp Part I

_All right, here's the camping trip, or the first half of it anyway_

_This is Tamora Pierce's playground, I've just wandered in with Penelope and Dalton._

"Mount up!" Kel shouted at the long line of pages and horses. Smiling slightly, she made sure Kefira was securely fastened in her sling before slipping into Peachblossom's saddle. "I still can't believe I'm doing this," she confessed to Daine, Numair, Neal, and Dom. "It feels so odd."

"If it's any consolation, I keep thinking that Wyldon is going to run up and yell at us for trying to distract his pages," said Neal. "It's great to get away from the palace infirmary though." Neal had taken on many of his aging father's duties at the infirmary since his return from New Hope.

"It most certainly is," remarked Dom, glaring at Neal, "although you seemed to be enjoying forcing vile tasting remedies down my throat."

Kel was about to point out that Dom hadn't even pretended to swallow most of the messes that Neal had prepared for him when Tobe cantered up from the back of the line.

"Everyone's ready," he told her. Kel nodded and nudged Peachblossom into a trot, leading the pages towards the Royal Forest.

Kel was not at all surprised when it began to rain as soon as the palace was out of sight. Better they learn now that knighthood is a constant battle with the elements, she thought, only occasionally interspersed with the opportunity to impale immortal monsters or decapitate evildoers.

Neal, however, seemed to take the inclement weather as a personal affront. "This is decidedly unjolly, as Owen would put it," he grumbled to Kel.

"On the contrary, sir, the precipitation is not entirely welcome," said a voice from behind. Kel recognized it as Penelope's. She turned back and saw that the girl was riding at the front of the line of pages. "The raindrops have a pleasantly cooling effect on such a warm afternoon."

"How is it," Neal asked, addressing no one in particular, "that haMinch didn't throttle the little optimist years ago?"

"I not sure," Penelope answered. "It probably has a good deal to do with the fact that he never listened to anything I said."

Neal blinked back at her.

"And I'm not an optimist," she added. "I'm dreading our future cold, mud-spattered state as much as you are. I was merely attempting to present another perspective."

Neal was again rendered momentarily speechless, much to Dom's amusement. "Your obstinacy and practicality, and my contrariness," he muttered finally to Kel, "what a terrifying combination."

"Yes," said Numair reflectively, "our students do tend to hold a mirror to our best and worst traits." He gave a small cough as he smiled at Daine and Sarralyn and then flicked his eyes towards Tobe. He was then forced to duck as a squirrel lobbed an acorn at him.

MMMM

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Kel woke Dom early and sent him off to rouse the male pages, while she went to wake the girls. She ordered Tobe to wake Neal.

"Can I have Peachblossom do it?" he asked eagerly.

Kel raised her eyebrows and then sighed. "Just be sure no one gets hurt," she told him. "And try to let the mages sleep," she added, gesturing towards Daine and Numair's tent, "Daine looked tired last night."

Penelope woke instantly when Kel tapped her shoulder. She sat up, pulled on her tunic, rolled up her bedroll, and reached over to wake Selina. Within minutes, the four girls were helping Kel cook porridge and playing peek-a-boo with Kefira. Neal sat sullenly glaring at the world over his tea; Kel noticed that he had a large horse slobber mark just below his collar.

Dom, meanwhile, seemed to be having a bit more difficulty. Only half the pages responded to his threat of immediate decapitation and he had to walk about and pull bedrolls off of the other half.

"However do you get your men moving in the mornings?" Neal asked over breakfast.

"Well, my favorite technique is to make an example by throwing one of them into the nearest creek and then letting his screams wake all the others," Dom told him. "But Kel seemed to be taking a more delicate approach this morning, so I thought I shouldn't."

"I just had more motivation to work with," Kel told him. "You're welcome to throw one of them in the creek tomorrow, although I'd prefer if you made if one of the conservatives' sons." She kissed his cheek quickly before walking off to divide the pages into groups and send them out to practice mapping terrain and hunting for supper.

MMMM

Daine woke with a shudder, gasped Numair's name, and lurched out of the tent grabbing Sarralyn in one arm and her bow in the other.

Numair, who'd been lying awake, enjoying the silence that had filled their campsite after the pages departed, sprang up after her. "Are you feeling sick again? Why don't you have Neal—"

"I don't usually take my bow with me when I go to vomit behind the bushes," Daine snapped, as she ran towards Kel, Dom, Neal, and Tobe. "We're about to have company," she shouted.

"What kind?" Kel asked. She'd been sitting on a log next to Dom, her head resting against his shoulder. Now, she sprang to her feet and glanced about the forest.

Daine closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Hurroks," she answered, " I must have been sleeping really soundly or I would have felt them. I'm still not sure where they're coming from."

Cursing, Kel ran towards Peachblossom. "We've got to track down the pages and get them back here where we can defend everyone at once."

"I can create a magical shield that will allow only mortals to pass through," Numair told her. "But it will be small, only about forty passes across."

"You stay here with Kefira and Sarralyn inside the shield then, and we'll go out and find the pages. They're all on foot, so we should be able to catch them quickly if we go on horseback." Kel quickly ordered Dom and Neal off in opposite directions.

Numair closed his eyes and began muttering the spell. Daine mounted Silkstride and set off in another direction before Numair could notice and object.

"I promise I won't shift, dearest," she whispered.

Tobe mounted his pony and turned to follow Kel.

"You won't listen if I tell you to go back, will you?" Kel asked.

Tobe didn't bother to dignify her question with a response, but Peachblossom offered his opinion on the matter with an emphatic snort.

MMMM

"We're nearly to the top," said Penelope, as she offered to steadying forearm to Selina, helping her climb over a large fallen tree.

"The trees are thinning out," Dalton agreed, staring pointedly for a moment at the arm Selina had grasped. "So, I think we'll get a good enough view if we climb onto that heap of rock."

"If not, I guess we'll have to find a tree to climb," said Deric, as he, too, scrambled over the log with Penelope's aid.

Dalton nodded and then offered his arm to Perry, a second year page, before glancing at Penelope.

"I can manage," she murmured in the flat, polite voice she'd used with him since their fight. She made an ungraceful scramble across the obstacle. Dalton shrugged and followed her.

"Can we leave weapons at the bottom?" Deric asked when the reached their rock pile. "It looks like it's going to be steep going." Perry shrugged and looked from Penelope to Dalton, the two fourth years who were leading the little expedition.

Penelope looked up the incline and was tempted by the thought of leaving all the extra weight behind. She could tell Dalton was too, from the wistful expression on his face as he set his fingers on his belt and looked up the slope.

"We'd better not," Penelope said quickly, before Dalton could concede to Perry's request so that they wouldn't have to argue about it in front of the younger pages.

Dalton nodded. "For all we know, the training master has asked the Wildmage to have the animals watch us to be sure we're doing everything by the book." He took a quick swig from his water-skin and began leading the way up.

Penelope was slightly bent over, trying to catch her breath after the climb when a series of shadows passed above her. She glanced upwards and saw three hurroks diving eagerly towards them. They'd have come suddenly out of the clouds.

"Down!" she cried, wrapping her arms around Selina and Perry's shoulders to force them out of the hurrok's path. Penelope shivered as the deadly claws passed inches from the back of her spine. She lifted herself onto her elbows and was relieved to find that Deric and Dalton were lying just a few feet away, having ducked when she cried out. "We've got to get back down into the trees," she muttered.

"We're just sitting targets up here in the open," Dalton agreed. Already, the hurroks were diving for another pass at them. The pages were already pressed against the rock; they couldn't evade danger by ducking lower again. Dalton, the only one carrying a bow, sprang into a kneeling position and fired at the central hurrok. He missed, but the hurroks were forced to swerve aside and away from the pages. The hurroks divided, two swept to the east and one to the west; they were clearly planning to attack from opposite directions.

"Mithros," Penelope hissed.

"Perry, Selina, Deric," Dalton said quickly, "You all need to climb down and get back under cover. Move fast and try to stay together. If you can, get back to the main camp so you can warn the others. I'll try to keep them busy and take a few out." They hesitated staring at him as though he'd grown fangs.

"Go," Penelope muttered, nudging Perry onto his knees. The hurroks were shrieking loudly as they circled. The three younger pages turned and began scooting down the rockside.

Dalton got to his feet, knocking another arrow to his bow. "Um, I need you to—"

"Guard your back," Penelope finished for him, standing, drawing her sword, and turning to face the lone hurrok. She took a deep breath and brought her sword into guard position.

All three hurroks dove at once. This time, Dalton managed to hit one. The arrow plunged deep into its chests and it plummeted earthwards with furious shrieks, catching its companion's wing so that the other hurrok had to veer off in another direction. The third hurrok clawed a deep gash in Penelope's arm just as she slashed into its neck. The two remaining hurroks flew away and began circling again.

"At least now it's a fair fight," Dalton muttered.

Penelope merely gave a soft, hysteria-tinged grunt in reply. She was more interested in the fact that the younger pages had reached the relative safety of the trees.

The two hurroks dove again. This time, Penelope lunged forward and sliced at the monster's throat before its claws could reach her. It collapsed on the rock-face before her, blood filled nostrils flaring wildly. She shut her eyes and decapitated the thing quickly. She tried to push the body away from them, but it was too heavy for her to shift. Meanwhile, Dalton's arrow merely grazed the flank of the final hurrok. It shrieked and turned towards them again, eyes filled with fury.

"Now," said Penelope quietly, "this is more of a fair fight. They're a lot bigger than us."

MMMM

Neal was immensely relieved when Numair's speaking spell hit him. "Neal, Daine, Kel, and Dom have brought back all of the pages but five. We've got them all safe in the barrier. Daine says she can only feel one hurrok left, but Kel wants you to get the rest back as soon as you can."

"Sir!:

"Sir!"

Selina and Deric looked, young, much, much, younger than Tobe as they came running at him. He halted Magewhisper and Selina instinctively wrapped her arms about the horse's neck. Neal dismounted. "Where are the others?"

"They're up there," Perry pointed at the rock as he walked out behind Deric. "The hurroks attacked and they made us leave. The noises have been awful; I think they might be—"

Neal grabbed his bow and ran clear of the forest, order the pages to stay put. He nearly paused to gape when he saw them. Penelope, with her glinting hair and bloody sword, and Dalton, with his bow held ready, looked like figures from a tale, standing back to back on the mountainside. Then, seeing that the hurrok was diving again, Neal drew a griffin fletched arrow, whispered a prayer, and fired. His arrow plunged into the Immortal, killing it instantly.

MMMM

"We're still alive?" Penelope said wonderingly.

"I think so, anyway," Dalton replied as he turned around. "You're hurt," he muttered, seeing her arm.

"It's nothi—"

Dalton raised a hand to silence her. "I know you just saved my life. And I probably saved yours. So don't try to feed me one of your instinctive invulnerable-page-girl-who-tells-us-all-it's-just-a-scratch-so-that-she-can-prove-she's-just-as-good-at-bleeding-to-death-as-all-the-big-strong-men lines. I'd just as soon skip that demonstration." He pulled off his tunic and wrapped it around her cut, staunching the heavy bleeding. "Let's get off this rock."

Penelope nodded, feeling numb and lightheaded, as Dalton grabbed the elbow of her unwounded arm and began climbing down. She did not protest when he helped her over the fallen log. She didn't have the breath for it and he did it so naturally she hardly noticed.

Neal met them at the bottom. Dalton pointed to her wound and then walked into the trees. Penelope heard him being sick as Neal inspected her arm.

"That was pretty impressive what you two did," Neal said after Dalton had returned and rinsed his mouth out. " I say we get back to base camp and I patch you up."

MMMM

Dom ended up fixing the pages midday meal. They were all exhausted from their various hurrok battles and mad dashes back to the barrier. Numair was tired from holding the barrier up so long; he sat ashen faced, alternating between scolding Daine and leaning over to kiss her. Daine meanwhile, was suffering from a bout of what she termed "afternoon sickness" having been distracted from the opportunity to feel queasy that morning. Kel was grim-faced with worry and intent upon watching Neal heal all the pages, as if she felt personally responsible for all their injuries.

Penelope was the mostly gravely injured and even she was fairly well off. She muttered an epic ballad aloud to distract herself while Neal stitched up her cut.

"I believe its " six maidens fair of yellow hair", although I must say golden hair sounds more attractive," Neal told her as he continued stitching.

"Only in Stillwater's translation," Penelope told him. "Innard and Branswill both insist upon " eight maidens fair of golden hair/ escaping from the dragon's lair."

"Absolutely incorrigible," Neal muttered.

"Is he talking about himself or my page?" Kel asked Dom, who merely shrugged at her.

"Knowing him," Tobe said. "He might very well be referring to Peachblossom."

_Penelope is taking on a much larger role than I originally planned, but she has been a very insistent character. The next episode will continue the camping trip and I hope to have it posted by next weekend at the latest ( if I have time it will be up by the middle of the week.) As always, reviews are very much appreciated. _


	4. Fall Camp Part II

_I wanted to have this chapter up for you yesterday, but I ended up spending all of Valentine's Day writing a paper whose thesis hinged on a suicidal jackrabbit (okay, I confess, I also spent a few hours watching Emma, eating chocolate, and debating the merits of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightly) and I seem to have unleashed a few fluff bunnies in this plot in response. _

_Again, I've just brought a few of my own characters to play in Tamora Piece's wonder Tortall._

"We're lucky none of us got sliced into bits this morning." Dalton spoke quietly as he and Penelope started on a third circuit of the campground. The rest of the pages had gone to sleep, but they were in the middle of their first shift of sentry duty. "I still can't quite believe we held the hurroks off for so long." He sighed, and they continued pacing along the perimeter, trying not become complacent, despite the fact that there appeared to be no danger.

"So," said Penelope, speaking quickly as she forced the words out into the almost-comfortable silence. "I realized this morning—things haven't been right between us since last week and—and I'm sorry I didn't--"

"There's no need to—"

"No, you've been trying to patch things up all week and I've been inexcusably rude. I really need to stop being such an idiot about needing to do everything on my own." She swallowed. "It's just hard having to prove to everyone that I'm tough enough to keep up when so many people are convinced I'm not worthy…"

"I'm not one of them," Dalton spoke in a whisper as they passed by the three tents housing the mages, Queenscove, and training master's family.

"I know you're not. You've always been—sometimes I'm just so busy staying stubborn and strong that I forget it's really only nine of every ten people who are against me and not the whole world. And then I forget to behave decently to the good tenth. You didn't deserve my little tantrum." She looked down and nudged a stick out of her path with the toe of her boot.

"You might try remembering that not everyone who offers to help you thinks you actually need assistance." Penelope shot him a questioning look and he gave her a little shrug before continuing. "Some of us try to lend you a hand because we respect you and agree with what you're trying to do and we see you as an equal. It's not meant to imply that you aren't capable—"

"I can't—"

Dalton reached out a hand and grabbed her shoulder to stop her pacing. "No, listen, if you weren't so busy trying to prove your own worthiness to yourself, you might realize that there are people who already believe you'll succeed."

"I know," Penelope muttered, and began walking again, without bothering to shake his hand from her shoulder.

"No, you don't know," Dalton told her. "People who care about you," he continued as though there had been no interruption, "people who admire how strong and beautiful you are—"

"I'm not," Penelope muttered, still staring at the ground.

Dalton stopped her again and turned her to face him; he had to reach across and grab her other shoulder to do it without disturbing her wounded arm. He took a deep breath and placed his fingers under her chin to lift it. "Yes," he said, "you are." He bent forwards slightly and kissed her, briefly and gently.

A shiver ran through Penelope's shoulders as she glanced up at his face, trying to read it. He lowered his fingers away from her chin and took a step backwards.

"And clever," he continued. "And brave. And—"

"too stubborn and too scared to accept anything from anyone or admit the truth to myself," she muttered, lifting her hands to catch the one that was falling away from her chin. She stepped forwards and kissed him.

This kiss lasted considerable longer than the first and was witnessed by none other than the great romantic, Sir Nealan of Queenscove.

MMMM

Neal immediately abandoned all of his speculation that Dom had added extra salt to his supper to make him wake up unbearably thirsty. He stood staring, wondering whether or not he ought to go and wake Kel. On the one hand, they were her pages, but on the other hand, they weren't doing anything wrong and she would probably feel an inexplicable need to punish them. He also thought of stepping over to interrupt them himself, but then, what would he say?

Finally, he settled for throwing a rock in their direction so that they would be reminded of their sentry duty and following them as a sort of discrete chaperone.

They jumped apart when the rock hit the bushes next to them.

"What was that?" Dalton whispered.

"That was me not being a stubborn—"

"No, I meant," he muttered and gestured towards the bush.

"Oh, a rabbit, I think. We—we ought to keep walking our circuit."

Dalton nodded and hesitantly held out his hand to her. She took his arm and wrapped it over her shoulder before they continued walking. Neal followed silently.

"Did you mean what you—what you said just then?" Penelope asked.

"Yes," he said, turning and kissing her hair. "All of it. I think I've thought of you that way for—well, at least since last week—but you were so—I convinced myself I was just—and then this morning--"

"You saved our lives." She finished for him.

He shrugged. "I didn't really have time to consider the matter until after Queenscove shot the last one. And then I knew I couldn't pretend anymore."

"I um, realized a few things this morning too. I should have realized sooner…but I couldn't stop being an obstinate idiot and pushing you away last week because I was afraid that if I had any help, or got to close to anyone, I wouldn't be able to do things on my own any more. There's nothing like a little mortal peril to clarify certain…feelings."

"You almost make me glad they attacked," he muttered.

"I'm glad I was up there with you when they did," she said, twisting around to face him in a lightning movement. She kissed him before he could say another word.

Neal was just beginning to look for another rock to throw so that he could get them moving again when a voice behind him began whispering an impressive string of curses.

He turned and saw Kel, who was staring at her two pages in complete bewilderment.

"Neal, what are they doing?" she whispered. And then, with a sudden glint in her eyes, "what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to refill my water skin," Neal said calmly, "and unless my eyes and ears deceive me, your lovely little protégés are kissing now that they've come to a philosophical agreement of sorts."

"This is not happening," said Kel. "I don't know how to deal with this. On top of everything else, it's too much." She glared at Neal, who was gesturing with some amusement towards Penelope and Dalton who had begun walking their circuit once more, Dalton's arm draped over Penelope's shoulders once again. "Lord Wyldon never had to deal with anything like this."

"Well," said Neal in a whisper as they trailed along behind the pages—who were too busy talking to each other to be acting as reliable sentries at the moment—"there was that one rumor about Joren and …" he trailed off beneath Kel's scowl. "But, no, I would say that once again, Lady Knight, your situation is unique."

"When did you become such an optimist?" Kel muttered. "I would have used the term hopeless. How am I supposed to warn them away from doing anything foolish without sounding like a complete hypocrite when the result of my own, er, youthful indiscretions is sleeping in a tent fifty paces away?"

"You weren't indiscrete, exactly Kel," Neal said. "I don't think you and Dom did anything wrong."

"Neal," Kel sighed. "Kefira's…wonderful. And I wouldn't wish not to have had her for anything, but she's completely altered the course of my career. If –well, I didn't mean to have children for another six years or so, if ever. And the scandal that had me sleeping with virtually every Tortallian soldier was a nightmare."

"So," said Neal after a long pause, "have a little chat with Penelope tomorrow and tell her that. She really looks up to you Kel; admires and respects you. You owe her the truth and the benefit of your advice."

"Like what," Kel whispered. "Be sure your anti-pregnancy charm is still in place after rounds of jousting and before you hop into bed with your lover?"

"Is that how the ever blunt and sensible Kel managed to…?" Neal shook his head. "No, don't answer that. Anyway, I had something a little less explicit in mind, but giving the girl some concrete practical advice might not be such a terrible idea."

"I can't sanction that sort of behavior. Her parents would kill me and then the conservatives would start a war deciding how to dispose of my body in the most inglorious fashion possible."

"Her parents are dead, I think," Neal muttered.

"That makes me doubly responsible," Kel said.

"Look Kel, Wyldon would probably want to expel her just for kissing the boy. Well, maybe not anymore, because he seems to be undergoing some radical personality changes as he ages, but that's beside the point. You and I both know that would be ridiculous. It might not even be that big a problem, given that they'll get knight masters and go separate ways in half a year anyway. You can give her a—well, not a lecture, but some sort of, um, talking to—that discourages, untoward behavior without punishing her or forbidding them from ever going near each other again. I mean, it looks like they've been friends for a while and they work well together—we saw that today—and he respects what she wants to do with her life. You can't just tear that away from them."

"You must be trying to appeal to my romantic side," Kel muttered. "You're making him sound like Dom."

"Speaking of Dom," Neal said, "why don't you ask him to have a little chat with Dalton?"

Kel grinned back at Neal. "I'll be sure to tell him it was all cousin Meathead's idea."

"What?" Dom asked as he stepped up behind Kel, wrapping his arms around her and brushing his lips past her cheek.

MMMM

"So," said Penelope, blushing slightly, "I know this has to do with that little encounter we had when the three of you came to remind us we were supposed to wake the next sentries. Did you pick me to help you with dishes as a kind of punishment or are we going to have an uncomfortable little chat now?"

Kel blinked at her and tried to give a noncommittal shrug. Kefira gave a delighted chuckle as Kel scooped her up.

"I suppose it's entirely a coincidence that Sergeant Domitan just rode off alone with Dalton," Penelope said as she stacked cooking utensils into a pot.

"The dishes are just so we can be doing something useful while we very carefully avoid look down at our hands and avoid eye contact," Kel told her.

"That make sense," said Penelope. There was a very long silence as they walked to the creek. "Since you haven't started yet," Penelope said, "do you mind if I say a few things first."

"As long as they're truthful," Kel said. "And remember, I'm not fond of excuses."

"Well," Penelope said, as she began cleaning, "Dalton and I…talked a lot last night." Kel resisted the urge to remind Penelope that she and Dom and Neal had watched most of their conversation, though it had been too muffled—and probably too incoherent given the number of times it had been interrupted by kisses—to overhear. "After we realized…how we felt about each other, it didn't take me long to remember that if certain individuals realized that the two of us were, um, anything more than platonic friends, it would get you—and us—into a lot of trouble. And neither of us wants that to happen. We both—well, everyone but the conservatives thinks you're a lot better than ha Minch. I don't think we would have made it through yesterday if it weren't for you. Anyway, neither of us wants to see you go because of anything we've done." She paused as she reached for a rag to dry her pot with. "So—this probably isn't going to reassure you any because I have a feeling you told yourself something similar once," she said, her eyes flicking briefly towards Kefira. "But we're not going to do anything stupid"—she and Kel both managed to blush scarlet—"I'm too young and I don't want…at least until I've earned my shield." Kel nodded gravely and opened her mouth to speak, but Penelope hadn't quite finished. "And we won't get caught doing anything foolish."

Kel felt her lips give an involuntary twitch at this distinction. This is going to be easier than I expected, she thought, though I may have to be careful to keep an eye on her in the future. "So," she said to Penelope, "you've proved yourself even more mature and perceptive than I thought you were, but don't think you've weaseled your way out of my advice." Penelope looked up at her and swallowed visibly. "I'm glad to hear," Kel continued, "that you like me better than ha Minch, and to be honest I'm really enjoying working with all of you—well, maybe not Gregory—but it was never a part of my plan for myself. I didn't mean for…" Kel trailed off, lost in thought. "Let me tell you something my knight-master once said to me," she said finally.

MMMM

Some time after she had released Penelope, Kel stood holding Kefira and waiting for Dom and Dalton to return as she watched the other pages practice hand-to-hand combat. She heard Dom's voice before they walked into view.

"…not try to protect her from the rest of the world. You just have to protect her from herself from time to time and let her take on the rest of the world on her own terms."

Dom sent Dalton to carry the hares they'd caught over to Neal and hurried to stand near Kel.

"That was very wise advice you gave," Kel said quietly.

"Oh," said Dom. He kissed her before explaining, "I've learned a few things from you over the years."

_Okay, I wasn't planning for Penelope and Dalton to highjack the story quite like that, but they walked into my imagination hand in hand and they're something of a force. Besides, my muse seems to have a soft spot for them. Hopefully, there will be more action and more of Tobe, Kel, and Neal in the next chapter—and, if possible, more conservative bashing-- but I can already see more future episodes featuring Penelope and Dalton…With any luck it will be up sometime this weekend. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Unpleasant Surprises

_Again, these are Tamora Pierce's characters. I'm just making sure none of them gets a good night's sleep._

Kel gave a muffled sigh as she tucked Kefira in. Dom was gone. He'd left that morning and he wouldn't be back until Midwinter—then, only if nothing unexpected came up. Already, her rooms seemed silent and drafty without him. That's enough moping, she told herself firmly, as she boiled water and settled down to wait for Tobe. After all, she had a baby and a twelve-year-old horse mage to manage—not to mention her pages--she didn't have time for loneliness.

"Daine said to tell you she's sorry she kept me so long," Tobe said as he pulled off his boots. He actually managed to hang his coat, but the boots he left scattered near the door. "One of the Rider ponies gave birth to twins and it took longer than she expected it to."

"That's fine," Kel said, passing him a mug. " Dom had you keeping your own hours while you studied with Daine; I'm not going to change the rules now that he's left."

"I'll miss him," Tobe said hurriedly. And then he launched into an excited tirade about Daine's plan for him to raise and train the twin foals. Kel sat silently, sipping her tea and listening happily to his enthusiasm. Tobe looked and sounded very different from the miserable orphan she'd rescued a few years before. When he ran out of things to say, they stared at the fire until Kel realized with a start that the final bell would toll shortly and stood up with a yawn.

"Daine said Numair would be free to watch Fira tomorrow," Tobe told just before they separated for bed.

"Good," Kel said. "I've been thinking that Neal and Yuki deserve a break."

"Well," said Tobe. "Yuki definitely does, but Neal…" He smiled at her before slipping into his closet-sized sleeping chamber.

Kel was nearly asleep when she heard the lock snick. At first she thought it was a half-dream and didn't stir. Then, one of the floorboards creaked and she erupted out of bed, grabbing her glaive and glancing at the doorway to Kefira's room as she hurried towards her bedroom door. Her daughter was still sleeping peacefully.

The door began to slide slowly open. Kel used her glaive to force it open quickly and then stepped forward so that she could hit the man standing behind it without decapitating him. He went down with a grunt. There was a whispered mutter from Kefira's room. Kel turned and saw a man approaching Kefira's crib, a knife in his hand. She disemboweled him before he realized that she'd seen him. I'll just have to keep the other one alive for questioning, she told herself.

Only there wasn't just one other one. There were six of them standing in her living room, their swords already drawn. Kel glanced back once more to make sure her daughter was safe and then stepped into fighting stance to face them.

MMMM

"What was that noise?" Tobe called. Kel was torn between cursing the fact that he had revealed his presence and thanking the gods that he was unharmed. She was too busy fending off three swordsmen with a single sweep to reply. Two leapt away, but she managed to knock the third one out. Another managed to slip through her guard and knick her arm before she drove the butt of her weapon into his gut.

Tobe opened the door, realized what was happening, and managed to knock one of the men out by throwing a washbasin at his head. Tobe's mind called on the one being whose presence would be most comforting almost without his volition, as his body swept into the fray.

Peachblossum reared up in his stall, hooves thrashing and began to attack the first barrier between himself and Tobe. Then, suddenly, a better idea occurred to him. It was like the difference between hay and grain: very obvious. He whickered softly, planted all four hooves on the ground, and reached for Daine.

**MMMM**

"I'm convinced that Oakbridge and Sir Miles have formed some sort of covenant against all of us and they both intentionally assign us impossible essays on the same night," Penelope told Dalton as they turned the corner into the pages wing.

"They did seem to match each other a little too well," Dalton agreed. "An essay on the proper address of elderly widows and one of the history of the chamber of ordeal. Two things none of us should ever contemplate."

"Yes, thinking about the chamber seems to completely undo my usual strategy of taking things one minute at a time. I've spent every day since I decided to try for knighthood trying to pretend the thing doesn't exist and then he gives us an essay on the cursed room." Penelope unlocked her door.

"When did you decide?" Dalton followed her through the open door as he spoke.

"One rainy afternoon a few weeks after my eighth birthday," Penelope answered as she piled her books onto her desk. "My aunt kept told me stories about the Lioness to keep me from chasing about and knocking down all of the furniture. Only her plan backfired because I decided to pretend her favorite armchair was Duke Roger and started attacking it." She smiled and stepped towards the side of the room opposite her door, out of view of anyone passing in the corridor. "When did you decide?"

"I decided by default when I realized I was miserable and restless at the university because I never got to be outdoors," he said. The last bell, and the curfew bell for pages, began to toll just as he finished. He sighed and leaned forward to kiss her goodnight.

A flicker of motion alerted them to the intruder's presence just before he sprang. Penelope vaulted over her bed and grabbed her sword as a black-clad man slipped out from behind her door, wielding a dagger. Two more men slid out of her dressing room, one armed with a sword, the other with a curved blade. Dalton glanced about and grabbed a battle-ax that Penelope had practiced with to strengthen her arms from against the wall.

"We don't want to cause an uproar," the first man spoke. "So you can both put down your toys and then the little miss can come along with us. You won't be harmed—well, not too much by us anyway, our employer wants—"

But Penelope had sliced across his arm before he could finish. There was a moment's silence as he switched his blade to his opposite hand, and then Dalton charged at him while Penelope attacked the man with the curved sword.

**MMMM**

"Peachblossom!" Daine jerked awake and jolted upright instantly, dislodging the Carthaki desert hare that had been sleeping on her chest. "Tobe!" she shouted. The hare ran across Numair's face, shoving one hind paw into his mouth and waking him abruptly.

Numair only had time to let out an indignant squawk and mutter "Magelet?" before Daine grabbed her bow and rushed out the door. He threw himself out of bed and ran after her. She was muttering something about being "able to talk to People but not people."

"Where and why are we going?" he asked as they sprinted through the palace.

"Kel's quarter's…under attack," Daine gasped. Numair sent a speaking spell to summon Jon and doubled his pace.

Numair blasted the door to the training master's suite open when they arrived. Kel stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily as she swung her glaive at her opponent. The floor was littered with the bodies of unconscious and injured men. Tobe was slumped, pale-faced, against a chair; there was a deep gash in his thigh and his pants were soaked in blood. Numair immediately magically paralyzed the bodies of all the intruders as Daine rushed to Tobe and began applying pressure to the wound.

Kel blinked at them in surprise and lowered her glaive to the ground, seemingly unaware of the many small gashes on her arms and torso. Kefira began to cry in the other room and Kel dashed away to get her.

"I think she's only just woken," Kel muttered as she emerged, carrying her daughter.

"That proves our theory then, Magelet" Numair remarked. "Babies really can sleep through anything, and they just choose to wake at tiny noises in order to be troublesome." Daine smiled briefly at Numair before continuing to murmur thanks and reassurance to Tobe as though he were a spooked horse.

**MMMM**

"Did we kill him?" Penelope asked softly, as they knelt beside the three bodies. Strands of hair had come loose from her braid and were in danger of sticking to the blood on her face. There was a bruise forming on her left cheek and a shallow cut on her abdomen.

"This one, I think so," Dalton replied. "The other two have pulses." His arms were covered in shallow gashes and he had a deeper cut in his left shoulder. "We didn't have a choice though, we were being attacked." He reached out to her face and tucked her loose hair back behind her ears. "You're like some sort of bloodied battle goddess."

"The blood's not mine," she muttered, glancing away from the intensity of his gaze.

"Not on your face anyway," he said, gesturing at her other injuries.

"You're one to talk," she murmured, leaning forward to brush her lips past his forehead. "We should both probably hobble along to Queenscove and the infirmary now, only…"

Dalton silenced her by kissing her. "Those two aren't going to wake up any time soon," he told her as they scrambled to their feet. "I have a feeling this is going to be a very long walk," he said as they began limping towards the door. "Though that shortens it a bit," he added as she wrapped an arm around his waist.

**MMMM**

"Mithros! What happened here?"

Kel looked up in surprise. A very disheveled looking King Jonathon stood in the doorway. Queen Thayet stood behind him, nodding approvingly as she did a body count.

"Did you manage all of these yourself, Kel?' she asked.

"I got two of 'em," Tobe said calmly.

"And Numair did the last one," Kel reflected. She straightened and turned towards Jon, who was seating himself beside Tobe in order to heal his wound. "As for your question, your majesty, I really have no idea. There appears to have been some sort of attack on my family. I killed one of them—he, er, got a little too close to Kefira—but I think you'll be able to question the others."

"We'll get to the bottom of this tomorrow," Jon said. "For tonight, we'll just put them in—"

"I've already made arrangements for an escort to the dungeon," Thayet said, beckoning a handful of guards into the room. Kel's attackers were scooped up—none to gently—and carried out.

"How did all of you know to come?" Kel asked. For her, time had tripled its pace when she realized she was under attack and was only just beginning to slow back to normal.

"From what I gather," said Numair, as he watched Daine and Jon tend to Tobe, "Tobe contacted your warhorse who—in an equine demonstration of remarkable good sense—called Daine who leapt out of bed, causing a rabbit to wake me. I then used a speaking spell to call Jon who probably woke Thayet by shouting and running from the room." Numair gave a long-suffering sigh. "Speaking of which, Magelet, I am tempted to add domestic rabbits to the list of bed banned species."

"Just so you know, dear," Daine said sweetly, "Hazel isn't a rabbit, she's a Carthaki desert hare."

"Bed banned species?" the king questioned.

"Someone," Daine explained, "has an irrational prejudice against amphibians and reptiles—not to mention porcupines, skunks, and sea lions—and doesn't like sharing with them. And though I appreciate his toleration of the vast majority of mammals"—she paused to wrap her arms around Numair—" I think he is now being unfair towards Carthaki desert hares."

"Isn't Skysong a reptile?" Kel asked just as Thayet commented that Daine had never slept with frogs before moving in with Numair.

"Skysong is an exception," Numair said somewhat irritably . "Hazel shoved her foot in my mouth."

"Yes, and she very much regrets doing so, it was a mutually repulsive experience," Daine told Numair before turning to Thayet. "I didn't ever sleep with frogs. Mammals really are much cuddlier."

"But you could—potentially, that is theoretically speaking—convince frogs to jump into someone else's bed in retaliation for the undeserved pranks that were played upon me by a certain squire?" Jonathon asked with interest.

"I could," Daine answered smoothly, "but I wouldn't ever do such a thing to George."

"Say George were to be elsewhere—"

Yuki appeared in Kel's doorway and cut Jon off. "There's been some sort of attack, Kel, Neal wanted me to tell you that two of your pages are in the infirmary." She blinked as she took in Tobe's injuries and Kel's demolished living room. "Who's trying to get rid of you now?"

Jonathon sighed loudly. "That's exactly what this is about isn't it. There's no getting around it then. I'll need to have them questioned tonight." He began walking towards the door.

"Allow me to volunteer my services," said Numair. He glanced down at Daine whose eyes flicked quickly towards Tobe. "You're staying with him," he confirmed. "Where is Sarra—"

"Sleeping peacefully between the paws of that spotted lynx I patched up last week. They seem to be quite taken with each other."

"We ought to hire her as a nursemaid if she can keep Kitten out of trouble too," Numair muttered.

Yuki carried Kefira while Kel and Daine helped Tobe to the infirmary. Neal met them at the door, looking worried. He began whispering curses when he saw Kel and Tobe's bloodied clothing.

"Tobe's already been taken care of," Kel assured him. "He just needs to rest. I want to see my pages. Who was attacked?"

Neal wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began steering her towards a row of cots. "You can see them, only if you promise to be a good girl and let me patch you up before you talk to them." Kel nodded as her glare at Neal was transformed into an expression of worry.

"We just lost a little blood is all," Dalton told her.

"Queenscove said we'll be able to get training again the day after tomorrow," Penelope assured her.

"Why you two?" she asked, ignoring the tingling sensation along her arms as Neal began healing various injuries. He had chosen not to remind her that she had promised to be patched up first when he saw the fury in her eyes.

"I think they were only after me," Penelope said quietly. "And Dalton just happened to be in my—in the way." Penelope quickly described their assailants.

"They're connected attempts obviously, " Neal said, "but why attack Penelope and not any of the other pages?"

"Because their master wants to make sure there are no more female squires." Queen Thayet stood in the doorway. "They were hired by Iden of Stone Mountain."

Kel stared at her in disbelief.

_Okay, I apologize again for the cliffhanger. I know I said that I would try to avoid them with this series. There will be something of an explanation and some conservative bashing in the next episode, which I will try to have up as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and reviewing._


	6. Conspiracy and Conseqences

"Apparently, Joren had a mad younger brother that the family kept secret

_As always, I'm just playing with Tamora Pierce's characters…and having entirely too much fun._

"Apparently, Joren had a mad older brother that the family kept secret. Come to think of it, this may explain some of Joren's irrational behavior… Only now he's gotten enough money to send cheap hired swords after me. I'm just glad he didn't have enough sense to hire one top assassin instead of a bunch of blunderers." Kel watched shadows fill the faces of Alanna, Raoul, and George as she spoke.

"Don't be overly modest," Numair muttered distractedly as he maintained the speaking spell while watching his daughter. Sarralyn toddled across the infirmary floor, clinging to the ears of the lynx, Silverspot. "They were foolish but not entirely incompetent."

"Whether or not they were blunderers is irrelevant," Alanna snapped. "The fact that the Stone Mountain clan hid the existence of a madman—didn't make any attempts to restrain him—when they knew he could be a threat. For all we know, Joren's father deliberately gave him spare coins and free time and encouraged him to go after you." She sighed and paced another lap her in sitting room, muttering something about nobles needing to marry into "sensible common stock" and avoid becoming inbred.

George gave a slight cough and whispered, "Like must wed like." Alanna glared at him from across the room. He grinned and blew her a kiss.

"The point is that he's sending people to kill Kel and her pages and Jon doesn't like it any more than we do," Raoul interrupted. "So, he's going to hold Iden and his father—who will in all likelihood claim complete innocence—accountable. I don't see that there's anything more that can be done. Aside from preventing any further attempts that he might arrange before his capture."

"Actually, after interrogating the surviving attackers," Neal remarked. "We came to the conclusion that they were attempting to kidnap rather than kill Penelope. In a sense, it's a clear indication that he can't have too much inside information or he would have sent more than three men to capture her. He seems to have underestimated her abilities."

"Well," Penelope piped up from the corner, causing Kel and Neal to shoot startled glances in her direction. "I wasn't just going to flutter my eyelashes, drop my sword, and follow them out meekly with my hands over my head."

"I thought—" Neal began.

"I know you told me you didn't want to see or hear for me for at least forty eight hours," she told him, "but after that you told me not to even consider getting up until afternoon. I thought that since your orders were contradictory, I ought to follow the last one given. I might point out that it may even help me in obeying your first order as I shall find it difficult to get into any philosophical disagreements with young conservatives while resting in the infirmary."

"Come over here, then," Kel said, "you might as well participate instead of just eavesdropping." Penelope scowled and then glanced hesitantly at Neal.

"You may walk," he muttered.

"May I join her?" Dalton asked. Kel nodded and beckoned them to stools at the side of her cot.

"I see that motherhood has made a strict disciplinarian of you," Raoul remarked.

"It certainly has," Alanna remarked, watching with amusement as Kefira used Silverspot's thick fur to haul herself off the ground and began toddling about the room with Sarralyn. The lynx made no attempt to shake either girl off, but glared intently at Numair with feline reproach. "Why didn't we ever find any nursemaids that calm?" Alanna asked George, before turning to size up Penelope.

Penelope bowed swiftly and then stood nervously beneath Alanna's gaze. She held her hands behind her back but Kel noted that her fingers were twitching and a blush had darkened the back of her neck. Kel fought her sudden urge to twist her blanket up in her hands as she watched Alanna appraise her student.

At last, Alanna grinned widely, gesturing for the girl to take her seat. "She's small," the Lioness noted with satisfaction, "but sturdy and nimble looking. And a capable swordswoman, are you not?" She addressed this question directly at Penelope.

"I believe I am an inch taller than yourself, Lioness. And a capable swordswoman, though I lack your expertise." Penelope lowered herself to her stool as she spoke.

"But why—aside from the sick fancy that all of the conservatives are going to imply—try to kidnap you?" George asked. "Your parents are deceased, are they not?" Penelope nodded. "And though your aunt has access to your inheritance to pay for training, it would have been difficult for her to raise funds for a ransom," he mused.

"I think it was just another attempt to scare me—and all the other girl pages—away. We've received several anonymous threatening letters over the past few years; a number of them suggesting that action ought to be taken to "redeem me". Iden could easily have been responsible for one or all of them."

"But then why did no one ever try to kidnap me?" Kel wondered aloud.

"I'm sure they would have gotten around to it eventually," Neal assured her. "They were just a bit preoccupied at first with ransacking your room, urinating on your door, and threatening Lalasa. And you ought not to feel jealous of Penelope's kidnapping attempt, Kel, when you had your own personal assassination attempt last night. It's really quite selfish of you."

"Neal, are sure that you don't have a problem controlling your mouth in front of training masters in general and that Wyldon's charming personality had nothing to do with your behavior?" Kel demanded.

Penelope, meanwhile, could be heard murmuring, "no one ever ransacked my room." Dalton shot her an I-adore-you-but-you're-being-an-idiot.

"I can think of two possible explanations," said Numair loudly. "The first is that Iden perceives Penelope as a greater threat than Keladry. Perhaps because she is proof that Alanna and Keladry are not mere flukes, but the beginnings of a growing trend."

"Or," interrupted George, "it's likely that, as your attackers claim their purpose was to prevent any future female squires, Iden still believes that Mindelan is responsible for Joren's death and that Penelope could somehow make the chamber kill another young conservative squire."

"Or," Alanna suggested, acidly, "there's really no point in trying to find a logical motive for any of his actions, because Iden is, after all, a madman." Numair and George both blinked at her. Neal—who looked as though he had been about to interrupt with a third possibility—snapped his jaws shut quickly.

"The important, practical matter at hand," Raoul said hastily, "is to keep the pages—and Kel's family—secure until Iden has been jailed and Stone Mountain held accountable—and hopefully also jailed. I think we can all rely on Thayet to ensure that the maximum penalty is exacted. I think the threat to Kefira made her snap a bit—I had a strong impulse to hide behind a piece of furniture when she told us last night and she wasn't even angry with me."

Kel heard Dalton mutter to Penelope that he didn't think Raoul would have fit behind or under any of the furniture in the sitting room at Pirate's Swoop, just as Thayet and Jon swept into the room.

"This makes a nice change from my glacial cabinet meeting at a highly polished table," Jon said, as he took in the pages on stools, the training master propped up in bed, and Kefira and Sarralyn who had collapsed in an exhausted heap on top of Silverspot, who was purring loudly. Penelope and Dalton slid gracefully from their stools, offering them to the king and queen, and seated themselves cross-legged on the floor alongside Silverspot.

"We arranged for Iden to be taken in to custody this morning," Thayet said as she took her seat. "He should be here for a trial sometime next week, but a number of healers have agreed that he is insane. We can't do anything more than lock him away where he won't be able to cause any more trouble."

Kel gave a brief satisfied nod.

"The difficulty is Lord Stone Mountain," Thayet continued. "He claims that he cannot be held responsible for the attacks since his son is of age. He's been suggesting that Joren's death drove Iden into madness, which is of course dubious since they wouldn't have hidden him away all of his life if he weren't mad to begin with. Personally, I'm convinced that he is indirectly responsible at the very least—allowing madmen to arrange to hire assassins ought be a crime. We will be able to try him along with his son, but given his wealth and power it's unclear what the outcome will be."

"So," said Kel, flexing her fingers, "a madman is given the freedom to hire men to kill me and my children and kidnap one of my students and his keeper might come away clean."

"I'm afraid so," the king replied. "Let me assure you that in an ideal world, I would confiscate his noble title and lands."

Kel cracked a few knuckles as she fought the urge to remind the king that they didn't live in an ideal world.

"It's a good thing you have an idealistic wife, then, dearest," Thayet murmured in his ear. Kel's cheeks twitched as she fought the urge to grin and she saw Alanna wink at the queen. "The most immediate difficulty," Thayet continued, ignoring the wince that flashed across Jon's face, "is that interrogators have been unable to determine whether or not Iden hired more assassins. So, it's unclear whether or not the danger has passed."

"A few of my advisors have suggested that we give all of the pages a holiday until the trial is finished," the king added. "They argue that where there has been one attack, there may be more. They think that would be the best way to keep them safe. I'm reluctant to close so much down for so long because of one madman's actions. However, I informed them that I would allow Lady Knight Keladry to decide upon a course of action."

"Please don't give us a holiday," Penelope blurted, ignoring the elbow that Dalton jabbed at her side when she began speaking, "that would be like letting Iden kidnap me." Everyone turned to stare at her and her cheeks reddened as she realized she'd interrupted the king's discussion.

"There's no need to be alarmed, it would be the best way to ensure your—" Jonathon broke off and swallowed his patronizing remark as he recognized the furious glint in Penelope's eyes from years of experience with his wife, daughter, and Champion. "Or did you mean that halting training would have the same effect as if you were kidnapped? Suggesting that scare tactics can manipulate training?" he asked quickly.

"It would be like letting Iden win, your majesty. I—we—have to keep going or people will think that they can get rid of our training master just by hiring enough idiots with swords."

There was a short pause during which Silverspot's purring seemed thunderously loud and then George spoke. "If you ever decide you don't want your shield, lass, I'm sure Sir Miles would hire you on as a discrete diplomat."

Neal raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kel. She scowled and then realized that the two rooms full of people were waiting for her to speak.

"Training will continue as usual," Kel pronounced, "with a few precautions. I'd like to have guards posted outside the pages wing." Jon nodded his agreement and gestured for Kel to continue. "And—until the trial—I want the pages to walk about in pairs so they have a better chance of fending off a surprise attack." Kel waited for Penelope and Dalton to acknowledge her words with nods before turning to face them. "Which reminds me that you two ought to be leaving momentarily for your afternoon lessons as I'm not going to excuse you for tardiness."

They both stood, bowed, and hurried for the door.

"Shall I look forward to meeting you on the practice courts tomorrow morning?" Thayet asked Penelope.

"Of course, your majesty," the girl replied, daring Neal to defy her with a sharp glance. Then she bowed again and met Dalton at the door.

"If we leave today, George, we should be able make it in time for the trial," Alanna said, before she realized that her husband had already slipped from the room to pack.

"I'll go see to saddling the horses, then," Raoul said, sauntering from the room.

MMMM

The next week passed quietly. The pages hardly noticed that they were forbidden to walk about alone as it was their usual habit to travel in groups. A few men came forward, claiming that Iden had attempted to hire them and hoping to gain coin by serving as witnesses against him. Thayet listened thoughtfully to their testimony and then politely offered the choice between five years labor in the mines or ten in the armed services. Kel and Tobe temporarily moved into Neal and Yuki's quarters while their suite was repaired.

A number of nobles attended Iden's trial in order to gawk at the disturbed young man who had been hidden from their society for so many years; Kel was not among them. So long as she knew he was going to be prevented from any more mischief, she wasn't interested in him.

Instead, she spent the afternoon with Neal, Yuki, Raoul, Alanna, George, Daine, and Numair. Daine and Tobe tucked themselves into a corner with charts of horse anatomy while the others played at cards—Neal, Numair, and George all attempted to outdo each other with scandalous cheating—glancing over occasionally to watch as Sarralyn, Kefira, and Nessaren toddled about with the ever tolerant Silverspot. Thayet stopped by just before supper to inform that Iden had been permanently placed in a closely guarded madhouse in Corus. She declined their invitation to stay and dine with them however, claiming she was on her way to "have a friendly little chat with a few magistrates."

"We are only amateurs," Alanna told Raoul despondently after the queen left. He gave a gloomy sigh and nodded in agreement.

The courtroom was fairly empty the next day. Kel supposed that since the Lord of Stone Mountain was neither insane nor a novelty, fewer people were interested in him. She felt remarkably calm and detached as she sat between Neal and Alanna—George was on her other side to prevent any outbursts—and listened to his magistrate's testimony.

"My lord is not responsible for his son's crimes, no matter how reprehensible they may be," the man claimed. "His son was of age and a madman besides. My lord had no way of knowing with any certainty that his son was a threat." The magistrate paused to wipe sweat from his face. "There was no action he could have taken short of locking his son away, having him under constant watch day and night…"

"I'm no expert on legal matters," Alanna whispered, "but it sounds as though his magistrate is arguing that Iden's father did exactly what he's been accused of."

"He's an inexperienced fellow," George whispered back, "apparently his lordship had a better legal advisor hired but he became indisposed this morning and had to send a young substitute."

"Where were you this morning George?" Alanna muttered.

"Oh, here and there, here and there," he replied innocently, as the magistrate representing the crown stood and pointed out that if Iden was mad he could not legally be 'of age' and that his father still had full responsibility for his actions.

"And furthermore, Iden's father ought to have reported his birth to the crown as he was one of the men who argued so vigorously for having all noble children's sex and birthday reported after the scandal surrounding the discovery of Lady Knight Alanna's identity."

In the end, it was this particular hypocritical lapse that sealed the Lord of Stone Mountain's fate. His title was confiscated for his failure to obey laws or his own making and his lands were reduced to a quarter of their size. It wasn't jail, but Kel thought that the loss of title was the worst possible fate for such a proud man.

Kel was almost too busy watching him storm from the courtroom to notice the nod that passed between Jonathon and the judge or the winks that passed between Thayet and George.

"You're lucky to have such devious friends," Neal told her as they walked to the Wildmage's quarters to collect their children. "They save you quite a bit of time on the dueling courts."

"I'm even luckier to have such reliable babysitters," Kel replied as he opened the door to reveal three girls sleeping on Silverspot. Numair had his face buried in a book and was muttering strange words to himself as he read, completely oblivious to their entrance.

A note from Daine sat upon the table. _Don't worry, she's promised to bite Numair if any child needs immediate human attention. Tobe and I will be back soon. _


	7. Summer

_Here, we've skipped to late spring/ early summer. Cast and real estate belong to Tamora Pierce. _

"Well, what do you suppose she's thinking about?" Dom asked as he stood with Neal watching Kel finish her fifteenth pattern dance. "She's moving a little too slowly to be imagining decapitating Spidren or conservative politicians," he added as he watched Kefira and Nessaren playing in a patch of sand.

"Maybe she's trying to decide when Kefira will be old enough to start using a glaive," Neal suggested.

"Two and a half," Kel muttered as she leaned her weapon against a fence. She turned abruptly and pulled Dom's water skin from his hands. "That's when Yuki's planning to start with her, too." Kel inclined her head towards Nessaren as she drank. Neal blinked at her and took a step backwards. "Congratulations, by the way, Yuki tells me you two are expecting a second child this fall."

"You must have been very busy while I was away, Meathead," Dom remarked, as he pulled Kel towards him and slung his arm over her shoulders. "But clearly, all the extra hours you claim to have been spending patching up Kel's charges haven't interfered too much with your marital duties."

Neal gave a sheepish scowl and was opening his mouth to reply when he became aware of a glint in Kel's eyes. It was similar to the glint that had recently begun appearing before she ordered her pages to do something that she felt would "help them grow".

"So I suppose you'll want to travel with Yuki to Queenscove, this summer, once you've been dismissed from your duties in the infirmary." Kel gazed thoughtfully at a group of newly elevated squires as they trooped in from an afternoon's ride.

Neal had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly what Kel had been thinking about and where her comments were about to lead—he just wasn't sure he was quite ready to be led there. "So, you must have been worrying about what to do with Tobe this summer then," he said, trying to distract her. He didn't feel at all prepared for the responsibility she was about to throw at him.

"The Riders are doing summer training at Pirate's Swoop again this year and Kel's starting up an extra summer training program for overly-ambitious pages there as well," Dom explained cheerfully, winking at Kel. "Tobe is going to stay with Daine and Numair in their tower. We decided on that weeks ago, remember, and you and Yuki agreed to travel to Pirate's Swoop with us."

Neal blinked at Dom. "Don't feel obligated to take her side just because you're married to her. She's perfectly capable of trouncing me without your help."

"I don't always take her side." Dom grinned. "I disagree with her when she takes your side."

"With all the traveling you'll be doing between Corus and Queenscove," Kel cut in eagerly "you must be considering taking a squire."

"Actually, I hadn't been, but I can see you've made the decision for me," Neal muttered. The relieved smile Kel shot Neal convinced him. What could be so difficult about mentoring a squire? Alanna had managed him, hadn't she? And Kel had been having trouble finding knight masters for her new squires in the current political climate. "Which one of them did you want me to get off your hands? And mind you I won't take Thurston—because he never seems to wash—or Gregory—on general principle."

"Don't worry," Kel said as she tugged on Dom's hand to lead the two men over to their daughters, "they've both been snapped up already. I've found a candidate better suited, one might even say ideally suited, to your situation and sensibilities."

"Haven't we been a bit premature in our planning Lady Knight?" Neal asked, before bending down to his daughter. "Come along, Nessie, it's time to get cleaned up for supper."

"Oh, not at all, not at all, I've already had a few words on the subject with Yuki. She heartily approves and she trusts me to make a good decision." Kel and Dom each took one of Kefira's hands (they had to bend over to do this) and began walking with her towards the palace. "Come by after supper and we'll discuss it some more."

"It's not you I mistrust," Neal called after them as he responded to Nessaren's impatient tugging by picking her up. "It's your husband's influence."

"What did you do to him this time?" Kel asked as they turned down the corridor to their quarters.

"Either he's even angrier with me than I am with myself over my not being there when you were attacked last fall, or he's taken the vinegar I dumped in his ale the other night a little too personally."

MMMM

"Who did you have in mind for him?" Dom asked as he attempted to pull a clean shirt over the freshly washed Kefira. The shirt ended up backwards.

Kel smiled at him as she finished pulling on her own tunic. Then she walked over to fix Kefira's shirt and whisper the answer in his ear.

"You're brilliant," he said and turned to kiss her thoroughly. "I don't know which one to bet on driving the other crazy first."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Kel murmured before kissing him again "it just occurred to be that they'd learn a lot from each other."

"Oh, they will," Dom assured her.

MMMM

"Penelope," Neal repeated. "That audacious, contrary, incorrigible, obstinate, optimistic--"

"You heard her, dear," said Yuki smugly. "I think it's an excellent choice; she's a lively conversationalist, a top-notch sparing partner, and a reliable babysitter."

"You really are the best one for her," Kel explained. "I would have sent her to the Lioness, but the conservatives would never allow it. I couldn't pass her off to any of the older knights, or any of the young unmarried ones—you know what kind of gossip that would generate—so that narrowed the field considerably. I considered Sir Myles, but I want her to get some practical experience. Raoul offered to take her in, but I don't think she's suited for command training the way I was. Of course, I thought about asking Wyldon but I didn't think I ought to inflict them upon on each other after all he's done for me."

"I see," said Neal, shuddering, "that could end in a fatality." He sighed. "Well. I suppose that leaves me then. I do admit the two of us do have a bit in common—when she doesn't remind me of you that is. We have had a few interesting political debates during her visits to the infirmary and she seems to have memorized an inordinate amount of poetry." He threw up his hands in defeat. "At least I'll always have someone to argue with."

"That's the spirit," said Kel, cheerfully.

PPPP

"My aunt was right," Penelope muttered to Dalton as they stood waiting to ride away from the palace. "These are going to be the longest four years of my life."

"And of mine," said Dalton. He had just learned that he was to be Lady Alanna's squire and was somewhat nervous at the prospect. At least he was looking forward to joining the others on the journey to Pirates' Swoop.

"Actually, it's three years and eight months," corrected Neal as he swung himself onto Magewhisper.

"Not that you've gone to the trouble of calculating it," Penelope remarked.

"No, rest assured, Lady Penelope," Dom told her. "He figured it out after his first mock duel with the Lioness."

"In which he was spectacularly defeated," added Yuki.

"Do I detect a secret conspiracy to undermine my authority over my squire?" Neal asked.

"I don't think there's anything secret about it, sir," muttered Penelope.

"Good," said Daine. "How do I join?"

"Be careful that I don't turn the tables and encourage young Tobe to rebel," Neal said darkly.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare." Tobe grinned at Daine and passed baby Rikash into her arms once she'd mounted. "She can turn herself into an elephant with bear claws and crocodile teeth if she wants to."

Kel shook her head and reluctantly interrupted the discussion by ordering them to ride out. She had a feeling that the three years and eight months were going to fly by for Neal and Penelope in one long, cheerful, and articulate squabble.

"I haven't actually disobeyed you yet," Penelope pointed out once they'd cleared the palace gates. "I don't see why you're so worried."

"What about when I told you to stay out of the infirmary for a week and you came back in two days later with a broken nose and an outrageous excuse about disrupting a magical experiment."

"Ah, yes, but you were really just expressing a preference, sir, and not giving an explicit order," Penelope countered.

"And she was telling the truth about disrupting an experiment," Numair chimed in. "I hope you weren't too badly hurt, by the way," he added, "I'm afraid Kitten was in a bit of a jealous temper for a few weeks after Rikash was born." Skysong gave an apologetic cooing trill from his saddlebag.

"A mere scratch," Penelope insisted, "and my knight-master patched it up quite easily."

Neal scowled at his squire. "I would order you to avoid injuries for the next four years, but I have a feeling you are going to prove yourself considerably less-accident prone than previously suspected now that you are being removed from the company of certain individuals and I don't believe it will be necessary."

Penelope nodded and gave him a small smile. "I shall endeavor to remain whole and healthy while under your supervision, sir."

Neal nodded back and considered reaching over to shake her hand before he remembered how disagreeable her horse was.

"Didn't you say it was three years and eight months, sir?" Dalton asked.

MMMM

They stopped at mid-afternoon to make camp—they'd planned a very slow traveling pace because they were traveling with so many small children—next to a creek with a large swimming hole. Yuki managed to settle Nessaren, Sarralyn, and Kefira down on a blanket by offering them each a large handle of raisins and within minutes they were joined by Silverspot whose purring seemed to lull them all to sleep. Yuki spread another blanket in the shade so that she could nap herself; Neal promptly pulled a book out of his saddlebag and flopped down next to his wife. Daine and Numair took Tobe and Rikash with them as they went to examine a rock formation that had intrigued Numair. Dalton and Penelope volunteered to gather wood for the campfire.

Kel and Dom surveyed the nearly empty campsite and smiled at each other. "Look's like we've been signed up to catch dinner," Kel said.

"Trout, if it's not too much trouble," said Neal without looking up from his reading. "And try to catch decent sized ones so we don't have to de-bone too many."

"Meathead, the only reason I haven't kicked you for that is because I know you're having a rough time adjusting to the fact that, between your wife and your squire, you're never going to have the last say in any argument for the rest of your life." Dom pulled a clever collapsing fishing pole from his pack and snapped it together as he spoke.

"I can't wait until Nessie starts using complete sentences," Kel remarked as she wrapped an arm around Dom's waist and they began strolling upstream.

"Me neither," Dom muttered. Neither of them minded much that they'd been left to do the fishing by themselves.

MMMM

"You really put a lot of thought into finding knight-masters for your squires," Dom remarked as they returned to camp with a large basketful of fish. They were both walking barefoot through the cool creek water and carrying their boots. "Lord Wyldon usually just let knights come in and pick for themselves."

"Yes," said Kel, managing to keep her voice light and even, "but not as many knights were interested in squires I'd trained." She sighed and kicked up a spray of water with her foot. "And besides I've enjoyed having more control over the process; it's allowed me to ensure that the most deserving knights end up with the most deserving squires."

"That wouldn't be favoritism, would it?" Dom asked as they made their way to the shore before the creek deepened into a swimming hole. Kel saw that Penelope, Tobe, and Dalton were happily perched on the slippery rocks next to the deeper water, cooling their feet in the stream.

"I don't think Neal and Penelope would call it that," Kel answered smoothly.

Dom was about to answer when Penelope slipped into the water with a splash and a restrained shriek. Kel rushed over to the swimming hole; Dom handed the fish to Neal and ran to follow.

Penelope had come up sputtering and cursing the cold and was now glaring at Tobe and Dalton who were pointing at each other trying to look innocent. Kel decided that it had been a joint effort and was about to start scolding them, when Penelope reached out her forearm. Dalton took it, apparently intending to help her out of the water. She ducked and gave a quick jerk and he tumbled in headfirst.

"He should have seen that one coming," Dom muttered, as he lifted Tobe and tossed him into the water as well.

Dalton meanwhile had surfaced and stopped laughing long enough to kiss and then dunk Penelope. When Tobe surfaced he decided to retaliate by splashing Kel and Dom, who glanced at each other and decided to jump in themselves.

Kel was somewhat startled when a frog landed on her head and then jumped onto Tobe's. Tobe, however, wasn't bothered and shouted up to Numair—who had walked down to the shore—that he thought Daine made an ugly frog. Numair replied that he thought Daine was a lovely frog—wise man, thought Kel—and that she was the only one whose clothes were still dry. Tobe responded by splashing the mage and attempting, unsuccessfully, to soak the Numair's robes.

The chaos didn't end until Neal walked down to inform them that supper was ready. "You've gotten my squire all wet," he complained.

" To be strictly accurate," said Dalton, "she's gotten us wet."

"Hurry up," called Yuki, "or Silverspot is going to eat all of the fish."

MMMM

Kel woke slowly the next morning and surveyed the campsite contentedly from Dom's arms. Penelope, Tobe, and Dalton were already out grooming the horses. Silverspot was curled, wide-awake, next to the three girls and met Kel's gaze steadily. Daine and Numair were curled around Rikash and what looked like an entire litter of foxes. (Kel decided that they must have their bedroll specially made in order to accommodate Numair's height and Daine's friends.) Yuki and Neal were also still asleep.

She reluctantly disentangled herself from Dom and went to boil water. Within half an hour everyone but Neal had woken and Dom and Penelope were helping to serve porridge while Daine fed Rikash and Numair made tea.

Eventually, the sounds and smells woke Neal and he sat up groggily. Penelope whistled cheerily as she carried him a bowl of porridge and a mug.

"Kel," he growled. "What were you thinking? She's a morning person." He rubbed his eyes and snatched his tea from Penelope. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'll do my best to be surly and unpleasant when I wake you in the future, if you'd prefer, sir" Penelope assured him.


	8. Pirate's Swoop

_Disclaimer: Does Tamora Pierce have midterms? (yet another reason to be envious I suppose, though she probably has a nasty schedule of publication deadlines.) _

Despite their slow traveling pace, the journey passed very quickly for Kel. She was so happy with the thought of having Dom's company for more than a month, and so glad to be away from her duties as training master—somehow practicing with Dalton and Penelope in the afternoons was enjoyable enough not to count—and able to focus on her family, that each day seemed to fly by. She was almost startled when Numair announced that Alanna and her husband would be riding out to greet them one morning.

She was not the only one surprised by the news. Penelope turned quickly towards Numair, excited by the thought of meeting such a famed warrior in person, and spilt tea on herself in the process. And Dalton choked on a spoonful of porridge and remained pale and nervous even after Neal thumped him heartily across the back.

Two hours later, as they rounded a bend in the road and saw the Lioness and the baron cantering up to meet them, Neal took pity on Dalton and offered him a few words of advice.

"It will be impossible for you to remain in Lady Alanna's good graces at all times," he murmured, "therefore it is imperative that you remain on good terms with the baron."

"Baron George? But wasn't he some kind of criminal?"

Neal nodded. "He's a fairly easy going sort—even tempered for the most part—and one of only a few individuals who can keep the Lioness from slicing someone open. And he knows all sorts of useful things; I learned just as much from him as I did from her."

Dalton looked only partially comforted. "Did she ever try to slice you open?"

Neal appeared to consider this for a moment. "Never seriously, no. Although there were a few occasions when she threatened to remove certain body parts." He shuddered at the memory.

Kel watched a grin creep across Dom's face. "I'm going to have a little chat with George myself tonight," he muttered in her ear—with Daine present Peachblossom was quite tolerant of the fact that he rode right next to Kel—"it seems that there are blackmail opportunities waiting to be exploited."

Dalton need not have worried, however, Alanna was in an excellent mood and she insisted on embracing Kefira, Tobe Nessaren, Sarralyn, Rikash, and their parents—and Kitten, although this was the dragon's idea and not the Lioness's—first. It took several minutes for both parties to dismount and greet each other.

Kel watched as Neal and George dismounted and clapped each other's shoulders, murmuring quietly to one another for a moment before Neal introduced Dalton. Then she handed Kefira to Dom and dismounted to embrace Alanna herself.

Finally, Alanna turned to appraise the squires. She took one long look and then gave a satisfied nod.

"He'll do splendidly; and I think she'll suit Neal quite well," she said grinning at Kel, before turning to speak directly to Dalton. "I'll expect you to be ready for sword training this afternoon, as soon as you've had a chance to eat and settle in." He nodded and bowed immediately, but Alanna had already turned her attention towards Penelope. "And don't think that you are going to get out of it just because you aren't my squire. I'm not about to leave your entire education to Queenscove."

"But didn't you teach him everything he knows," Dalton muttered before he could stop himself.

"Everything he knows, yes," Alanna said, smiling briefly at him, "but not everything I know." She turned back to Penelope, staring at her expectantly.

"I would never presume myself to be excused from your teachings, Lady Knight," Penelope answered. She cast one darting glance at Neal before continuing. "You seem to have done an excellent job with my knight master, although perhaps you forgot to teach him humility."

"I'm planning on making that an indirect lesson." Alanna grinned at Penelope. "I want you to be able to defeat Neal in a duel by the time you leave with him at the end of the month."

Penelope's jaw dropped ever so slightly and she stood speechless until Kel suggested that they ought to be moving along.

"It's about time I had some help keeping his ego in check," Yuki muttered, as everyone remounted to finish the journey to Pirate's Swoop.

MMMM

"How do they do that?" Neal muttered to the Lioness as he and George stood with her at the edge of the courtyard, surveying its occupants. They'd been at the Swoop two weeks and everyone had gathered there to await the arrival of Kel's five summer pages and the group of Riders escorting them.

"How do who do what?" she asked. "I shall assume that you aren't referring to Daine and Numair as they don't appear to be succeeding in their current endeavor," she said, gesturing to the couple who were trying to convince Sarralyn to stop pulling on Kitten's tail. "So that leaves either Domitan and Keladry"—Kel had taught Dom the basics of glaive work and was currently trouncing him—"or Penelope and Dalton." Penelope and Dalton were dueling furiously with practice swords.

"Those two," said Neal, pointing at Penelope and Dalton. "How do they fight like that?"

"They're evenly matched and they both want to win," George said, as though this explained everything.

"No," said Neal. "What I mean is—and I guess I could ask the same thing about Kel and Dom—is how can they attack each other like that when…"

"What you mean is how can they go from lookin' at each other they do, or from kissin' behind the stables, to apparently attempting to impale each other with wooden swords?" George said.

"Something like that," Neal muttered. "I can't picture myself attacking Yuki that way."

"Oh," said Alanna, speaking absent-mindedly as her eyes followed the two squires, "so that's why you never practice glaive work with her. I had no idea you were so reluctant to harm her; I thought you avoided it out of fear for your own skin."

"Of course not," Neal said quickly.

"I think they look awfully sharp myself," George confided as he watched Kel knock Dom to his feet and help him up again.

"They fight that way because they—all four of them—want to improve and they care enough about each other enough to want the other to improve. No one wants to see their beloved be killed from lack of training," Alanna explained.

"The other reason Dalton fights that way is pure self-defense," George put in. "Penelope is like Alanna—at their size they can't afford to go easy one anyone. And if Penelope thought he was going easy on her she might do him in."

"My squire's an intelligent lad," Alanna told Neal, "I'll enjoy watching you duel him this afternoon."

Neal blinked at her. "What about my squire?"

"A talented lass—that's why I get to duel her first while she's still fresh. Then we'll trade--with any luck we'll be able to put off your humiliating defeat for one more day. Maybe the two of us will duel first to give them a little demonstration."

Neal cast a pleading glance at George who shrugged. "Don't look at me. I never interfere with my wife's notions. I'm off to practice archery with the Wildmage." Indeed, Daine had just finished settling her children and was beckoning George as she held up her bow. George walked off to join Daine and Tobe near the targets.

Neal sighed and turned back to the Lioness. "Are we going wait for one of them to win?"

Alanna appeared to think about this as she watched them. "No, that might take all afternoon, we'll just call it a tie and interrupt their duel."

MMMM

Penelope was just bending to retrieve her sword—which Alanna had knocked from her hands for the second time that afternoon—when Daine began letting out a long and impressive stream of curses.

"Did what I think just happened actually happen?" Tobe asked anxiously.

Kel and Dom quickly dropped their glaives and hurried over. Dalton and Neal followed. Penelope glanced at Alanna—who nodded her permission—and they hurried to join the others.

"Impossibly, yes" Daine answered Tobe. "Thirty horses—the ones with Kel's pages and the Rider trainee group—seem to have just blinked out of existence—and no, they didn't die—or at least I don't think they did," she explained to the others, reaching for Numair's hand in the hope that he could explain the phenomenon.

"The only possible explanation is that they've just been enclosed in a very rare sort of magical barrier—on that could only be created by a variety of Immortal magics acting together," Numair said slowly, as though he didn't believe his own words. "Don't bother with that," he told Alanna as she pulled a small mirror from her belt to search for them, "it won't do any good." He paused, frowning and rubbing his thumb across the back of Daine's hand as he thought. "Do you know where they were just before they vanished?"

She nodded. "Only about twenty minutes ride away, just in that patch of forest." She gestured with her free hand.

"They should be near there then," Numair said.

"Good," Kel breathed. "Will you be able to break the barrier?"

"I think it's a matter of killing the a few of the Immortals who are holding the spell together—it's an complex joint magical working and…" But no one listened to the rest. Alanna was already running towards the stables shouting orders to have horses saddled. Tobe, Penelope and Dalton followed to help. Yuki quickly assured Kel and Daine that she would take care of their children as they hurried to collect weapons.

MMMM

"Are you sure this is it?" George asked. "All I can see looks like sunlight and dust motes and breeze."

Numair nodded and proved the barriers existence by sending a bolt of power at it. Black flame rebounded back at them.

"Well, I'm impressed," said Neal, after he had ducked.

"Easily impressed," said Numair. "I think there are only seven Immortals holding this thing up; all we have to do is destroy two of them and Alanna and I will be able to knock the thing down. If only they hadn't managed to cloak their presence from Daine. That what worries, that the Immortals—a diverse group of them—have all banded together to attack us. Jon isn't going to like this."

"Is that Selina?" Penelope asked suddenly, pointing at a small figure that had appeared behind the barrier.

"I think—" began Kel, but the barrier blazed white suddenly before she could finish answering. And two Stormwings dove at out of nowhere, wielding daggers. Kel got her sword up just in time to fend one of them off and Daine sent an arrow through the others neck.

There was no time to react before the other Immortals were upon them. A Spriden stepped through the barrier, spraying webbing at George and Dalton—who barely scuttled out of the way. He was followed by a hurrok and a killer unicorn whose horns gleamed horribly in the bright light. A pair of centaurs came next, and then a giant.

"Where's Raoul when we need him?" George muttered as another Spriden and a Stormwing emerged. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled a dagger from his sleeve and threw it expertly at the Stormwing. He missed, just barely, and the Stormwing dove again as the battle broke out.

Alanna drew her sword and turned towards the unicorn, but Numair reached out and stopped her, whispering urgently in her ear and pointing at the barrier. Kel and Peachblossom stepped forward to tackle the unicorn. Purple and black flames blazed as Daine shot an arrow directly into the giant's eye. Dom and George found themselves swept up in a mess of sticky Spidren webbing and they had to struggled to remain on their feet and cut their way loose as the Immortal attempted to drag them away from the fight.

Penelope, Meanwhile, had drawn her sword and lifted it just in time to avoid being decapitated by one of the centaurs. Her horse reared and swerved to avoid its front hooves.

She was aware of Dalton battling the other centaur at her side but both of them were being driven away from the rest of the battle, so she barely noticed the unicorn blood that sprayed everywhere when Kel decapitated it.

Dom and George moved in to guard Alanna and Numair—who were concentrating on breaking the barrier—as soon as they had killed the Spriden that had ensnared them. The barrier was weakening quickly as the Immortals whose magic sustained it were killed, but other non-mage Immortals continued to pass through the barrier and attack. Hurroks and Spirdren drove Kel, Daine, and Tobe in one direction and centaurs drove Penelope and Dalton in another until the two squires disappeared from view.

The tide didn't turn until Numair broke the barrier—a feat that took more effort than he had expected it too—and the Riders who were trapped inside could join the battle.

Daine breathed a sigh of relief when the barrier broke she could sense the Rider ponies, wildlife, and Immortals that had been contained within it. She told Tobe to call back the panicked Rider ponies while she concentrated on dispatching Stormwings with her bow—which was considerable easier now that she could detect their presence with her magic.

MMMM

Penelope let out a pained moan as her mare reared, her hooves flailing at the centaur. The squire fell to the ground, landing hard on a large rock and barely managing to keep a grip on her sword. She forced herself to her feet and looked around. She and her horse were alone with the crazed centaur; she could hear the others nearby but not see them.

Penelope watched her horse and the centaur fight, beating at each other with their hooves; both were coated in foamy sweat, but she could tell that her horse was tiring. The centaur was distracted, however, and she managed to stumble forwards and drive her sword through his gut. He swung at her as he sunk down, leaving a deep gash across her arm. She clapped a hand to the wound and watched, mesmerized, as the Immortal died.

"Penelope, come here." Dalton's voice was hoarse but it brought her back to her senses.

She turned and saw him standing a few feet behind her. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself together and hobbled towards him, doubting that she would find a single patch of un-bruised skin on her body the next day. He seemed to realize this too, because he put his arms around her very, very, gently as he bent forwards to brush his lips past her forehead.

"It's over," she said numbly, realizing that the sounds of fighting had ceased. Her horse had disappeared, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "It's over," she repeated to herself, shivering slightly in the late afternoon breeze. She gave a sudden sob and wrapped her arms around Dalton, laying her cheek against his heart. He lifted one of his hands to stroke the back of her head.

"We won, I think, I haven't gone back to check though. I saw your horse running past and I thought I'd come look for you." He looked down and noticed her injury. "You're bleeding," he remarked.

"So are you," she muttered, tilting her face upwards to kiss him.

Neal walked forwards and pulled Penelope's sword from the centaur's entrails. "Delightful as this scene is—" he began and Penelope and Dalton stepped apart from each other to look at him—" you really ought to let me patch you up and walk you back to your training master before she manages to convince herself that you've been killed and dies of guilt." He took a hold of his squire's arm as he spoke and she blinked at him as cool green light passed over her wound.

"I'm sorry," she muttered as Neal tended to the cut on Dalton's forearm. "I haven't done a very good job staying out of trouble."

Neal blinked at her. "Stop that nonsense. We can't both be ridiculous all the time."

Dalton slipped an arm around her shoulders and they followed Neal back to the others.

Kel stepped away from her conversation with Daine and Numair about "orchestrated magics", relieved to see both of them alive.

"Still in one piece are you?" Alanna asked, looking up from the healing she was working on Dom.

"I can't be certain, Lady Knight, as I haven't counted yet," Penelope told her. George grinned as Alanna scowled and muttered darkly about "impertinent squires."

"That's my girl," Neal agreed, grinning broadly at Kel and winking at Penelope.

_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	9. Fears

_The characters and kingdom belong to Tamora Pierce. I've just brought Penelope and Dalton over to play. _

"I wouldn't." Neal bent over to whisper the words in Kel's ear.

She pulled her eyes away from Penelope and Dalton who were curled in the same armchair—ostensibly because they were reading from the same book of war histories—and pulled her mind away from her internal debate about whether or not she should pretend to object to the cozy arrangement.

She didn't want to; somehow, after her days spent traveling with them and fighting beside them, she felt more like an older sister to them than a training master. Lifting her head from Dom's shoulder, she looked at Neal with raised eyebrows.

"Wouldn't what?" she asked innocently.

"Scold," Neal replied. "My squire has a tendency to respond to hypocritical tyrants with scorching remarks." There was a touch of pride in his voice as he spoke.

"And what kind of remarks does she make to hopeless romantics, like yourself, Meathead?" Dom asked, keeping his arm firmly about Kel's shoulders.

Neal shrugged and reached for Yuki's hand. "Sweetly cynical ones," he muttered, before walking with his wife and daughter to a desk at the far side of George and Alanna's living room.

"I wouldn't have had the heart to say anything to them today," Kel murmured to Dom once Neal was out of earshot.

"Really?" Penelope asked brightly, leaning her head against Dalton's chest.

"Don't push your luck, lady squire," Kel muttered before turning her face back towards Dom.

"I'm not leaving for a few more weeks yet," he reminded her.

"I know," she sighed.

Numair and Daine appeared at the door before he could answer her. "We should have seen it coming this one coming," Numair was telling her sadly.

"This sort of thing never happens to normal parents," Daine muttered.

"Neal and Yuki are the only normal parents in the room," Dom told them. "And calling Neal normal involves a huge stretch of the imagination."

"What's happened?" Kel asked.

"It's Kitten," said Numair and Daine said, at the exact same time, "It's Sarralyn."

"They've allied themselves against us," Numair explained ruefully as he slumped onto a sofa.

"A dragonet and a two-year-old," George said gleefully as he followed them in. "Even the two of you don't have a hope of quelling sibling rivalry and tantrums."

"Oh," said Alanna, "they don't have a hope by themselves, but I think you are underestimating Silverspot."

"She's a wonder," Numair agreed reverently. "I still have no idea why she decided to attach herself to us."

"Well," Daine confessed, "a group of Northern forest predators decided we really needed help, and they held a sort of council—I think Badger and my Da had something to do with it—and appointed her to come look after us."

"And we all thought you'd attracted her through the force of your charming personality," Yuki remarked as she deftly prevented Nessaren from biting the head off a chess queen.

Kel enjoyed the leisurely pace of the cozy, rainy afternoon spent in the library. She savored the rare peaceful moment, knowing that it would end as soon as the king and queen arrived with Raoul to discuss the recent Immortal attack. She was glad she'd chosen to give her pages a few hours off to go exploring through the secret passages of Pirate's Swoop with Tobe.

They were all watching Dom and Neal try to work their way out a of chess stalemate—Alanna had to clamp her hand over George's mouth to keep him from sharing hints—when Jon, Thayet, and Raoul appeared without a formal announcement.

Dom walked over to greet Raoul and report to him directly. Neal and Yuki gathered up Nessaren and went to greet Jon and Thayet before leaving. Penelope and Dalton jumped out of their chair and followed. And Kel lifted Kefira hesitantly, unsure whether or not the king would want to hear her report directly.

"Please, stay, all of you," said Jon loudly. "I want to hear about this Immortal magic from each of you, and see the site of the attack myself before we form a plan of action. That's why I traveled we've traveled here in person."

Penelope raised her eyebrows at this speech and her features began to form that delicate smirk which Neal had already learned to recognize.

"All of us?" Neal repeated, gesturing at the squires and at Yuki and Nessaren.

Jon paused to consider this. "I will send your squires and your charming children away to make mischief before we begin discussing politics and strategy, but I do want your opinion and Yuki's."

Kel saw Penelope and Dalton mouthing the word mischief and interrupted. "By mischief," she told him, "he means taking Nessie and Fira and running the pages through hand-to-hand combat practice in the great hall."

"And Sarralyn, too, if she's woken from her nap," Daine added opportunistically.

Penelope shrugged, and, seeing that all available furniture was taken up, dropped into a graceful cross-legged pose on the carpet.

Half an hour later, Jon nodded his dismissal at them. George grabbed Dalton's wrist and whispered something in his ear while Penelope knelt so that Nessaren could scramble onto her back for a piggyback ride. (Nessie had been quite taken with the idea of frequent rides when she learned that "Penny" would be traveling with her parents.)

"You know where to find them?" he asked as Dalton bent over to pick up Kefira.

"Walnut writing desk in the western corridor, third drawer down." Dalton nodded.

"Clever lad."

MMMM

"I love that cat," Dalton breathed and Penelope carefully slid the door to Daine and Numair's chambers shut so as not to disturb Silverspot and Sarralyn. "I don't know how we would have managed three of them on the stairs."

"What stairs?"

"The ones George told me about—Sir Nealan was right, I think I am going to learn all sorts of things from him," Dalton explained as they walked.

He stopped at the walnut writing desk and set Kefira down so that he could pull out the third drawer out. Penelope set Nessaren down and knelt beside him as he reached his hand through the empty space where the drawer had been and pushed at one of the stones in the wall. There was a soft grinding noise and a small patch of stones beside the desk slid back slightly revealing a very narrow staircase.

"The Baron designed it and the Lioness did the spell that makes it so easy move," Dalton said, smiling at Penelope as she examined the secret passageway. "George says there's a small hidden chamber that the kids are playing in at the bottom of these steps. Then there's another passage we can take to get to the great hall for practice."

"Is there a spell to light it up too?" she asked. "Or are we supposed to trip down it in the dark?"

"We'll have to take a candle for that," he said pulling matches from another drawer and lighting one.

Somehow, in their eagerness to start, Nessaren ended up on Dalton's back and Kefira on Penelope's. The toddlers waited until they had descended a few steps and resealed the door before expressing their displeasure at this arrangement. Both started howling and Kefira began attempting to strangle Penelope while Nessaren reached her hands around and covered Dalton's eyes.

Dalton tried to brush her hands away and ended up dropping the candle, plunging them all into darkness and making the girls howl even louder.

A long stalemate ensued during which Dalton used language that would have shocked Kel—but that both little girls had heard from their parents during various emergencies—and Penelope came to a new appreciation of the fact that her childless aunt had been willing to adopt her and refrain from strangling her during her childhood. She fully understood the fear that had driven her aunt to distribute charms against pregnancy to all of her nieces—and Penelope swore that she was never removing hers even if she didn't think she needed it just yet. She wondered how the human race in general had managed to reproduce for so many generations without killing off all of its offspring and whether Sir Nealan and Lady Keladry were crazy because of their children or if the children were a symptom of their madness.

"We surrender," Penelope said meekly into the darkness. "We promise we'll let you two switch, as soon as we get a light and we can see what we're doing." Gradually the cries subsided and all four of them were left in quiet, nearly pitch-black darkness.

"I think we might have preferred to stay and listen to them talk politics," Dalton remarked. "Our headaches would be about the same by now."

"Hello?" called a voice. "Are you still alive up there?"

"Tobe?" Dalton called back. "Is that you?"

A lit candle appeared and Penelope could just make out Tobe's face behind it. He seemed both worried and amused.

"Yeah," he answered, bending down to relight Dalton's candle and passing it to him. "Can you help us? Petran's stuck in the crawlway and he won't come out. He won't even answer us."

"Just as long as he isn't screaming," Dalton muttered, as Tobe helped them to switch Nessaren and Kefira.

The girls sang a cheerful rhyme—which was almost as painful as their screaming had been in the enclosed space—as Dalton and Penelope descended the stairs and followed Tobe into the hidden chamber that George had mentioned. All the pages—all new second years--except for Petran were sitting next to the entrance to a small passage, one too low to walk through.

"We were all crawling through to see where it led," Deric explained. "We dared him to go first, but then we rounded a bend and the passage got even tighter, and he just froze. He won't turn around and he won't go forwards."

"He's sneezed a few times," Selina offered, "but he doesn't answer if you shout at him."

"He must not like small spaces," Dalton said calmly as he settled Kefira in Tobe's lap.

"He's terrified out of his wits," Deric said gleefully.

Dalton bent suddenly and took a firm hold of Deric's shoulder. "But you aren't going to bother him about it unless you want everyone to be reminded of the way you panic underwater."

Penelope caught Dalton's eye and nodded as she set Nessaren down beside Tobe. He was the only one with enough authority to keep all the other second years from teasing Petran. They all listened to Dalton because he was sixteen, nearly seventeen, but not all of the boys would obey Penelope.

Penelope bent and crawled halfway into the passage to call Petran. There was no answer.

"Please, just turn around come out," she called again. "You won't feel trapped anymore when you get out here. The king's arrived and Mindelan wants us to practice weaponless combat before supper."

Dalton grasped her around the waist and pulled her out. "Let me try," he whispered, and stuck his own shoulders through the opening. "Petran," he called, "do you want someone to come help you?"

"I can't move." Petran sounded genuinely panicked.

"I suppose a rock could have fallen or something," said Tobe. "He might actually be stuck."

"I'll go," Dalton muttered reluctantly and began crawling forwards. He was much larger than the eleven-year-olds and it was a tight fit for him.

"I'm smaller," Penelope said. "I can do it." Dalton flashed her a grateful smile as he backed out.

"I think it had better be Dalton," Selina said in a small voice. "Petran doesn't like to listen to me or Penelope even when he's not caught in a small tunnel."

Dalton sighed and turned towards Penelope. "I think she's right," he said, expecting her to argue, "I'll go."

Penelope surprised him by nodding quickly. "I'm going to go fetch Mindelan," she told him, "in case there's a problem."

"I'll go with you," Tobe offered. "And we can get these two out of here." He took Kefira's hand and started leading her up the staircase. Penelope did the same with Nessaren.

MMMM

Kel jumped up in alarm when Penelope appeared in the doorway, looking dusty and worried. She breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Tobe with Kefira and Nessaren.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Penelope said, making a small, somehow feminine, bow towards Jon and Thayet, "but I believe that there is a situation which Lady Knight Keladry might like to attend to."

Kel could tell from her formal speech and guarded tone that she didn't want to go into details in front of an audience, so she nodded gratefully and departed as Thayet announced that she thought it was time to take a break for tea.

"What's wrong?" Kel asked as she followed Penelope down the corridor. "And how did you get all those red marks on your neck?" she added suspiciously.

"Ask your daughter," Penelope muttered. Then she launched into an explanation of Petran's dilemma, leading Kel towards the hidden passageway as she spoke.

MMMM

Dalton was just helping Petran back out of the crawlway when Kel arrived. She took one look at his pale face and was instantly reminded of her tree-climbing experiences as a page.

"Why don't all of you head out to the great hall and start practicing?" she said to Penelope and Dalton and the other pages. "Petran will be along to join you in a few minutes."

Petran stood with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back, as though he expected to be punished, while the others set off down the passageway that led to the hall.

Kel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before addressing Petran. "I'm going to tell you a story," she told him finally.

"A story?"

"So that you will understand what I am about to ask you to do," Kel explained. "I'm going to tell you a story about what Lord Wyldon once ordered one of his pages to do to conquer her fear of heights."

"_Her_ fear of heights," he repeated. "You mean your fear of heights?"

Kel nodded and gestured for him to sit beside her on the floor.

MMMM

Meanwhile, Penelope and Dalton let the second year pages drift ahead of them as they followed slowly to the hall.

"How did you get him out of there?" Penelope asked.

"I convinced him to go backwards and not think about it," Dalton replied. "It was a very long backward crawl for me, so it must have seem like eternity to him."

"Fears are such odd things; I've always felt safe in small spaces, like nothing could get to me…" she trailed off and was silent for a moment before adding, "I shouldn't let myself think things like that." She bit her lip and turned away from him, twirling the end of her braid between her fingers.

"Why not? You have as much a right to think that sort of thing as anyone else."

"Not quite. There are people who expect me to be beyond that sort of weakness if I want to—"

"You mean you expect yourself to be beyond that sort of thought," he said, reaching out to grab her braid and turn her head back towards him.

She gave him a half smile as she pushed his hand away from her hair. "It's the only thing I have in common with certain cranky conservatives."

"So," Dalton said calmly, "if you aren't bothered by tight spaces, what, aside from your irrational belief that you aren't good enough, frightens you?'

"Saying goodbye to you in two weeks," she whispered.

He grabbed her elbows and pulled her close so that he could kiss her forehead. "Me too," he said. "We'll both be counting the days to midwinter." He wrapped his arms around her and whispered. "And I really don't like snakes."

Another girl might have giggled, but Penelope gave a delicate snort. She stepped back from him so that she could meet his eyes. "I'm not so fond of being upside-down myself."

"Is that why you manage to land on your feet so often?" he asked as they hurried to catch up with the pages.

MMMM

Kel couldn't help smiling at Petran as he stepped out of the crawlway and saluted her. She had ordered him to crawl in, turn around, and crawl out after assuring him that she wasn't going to make a habit of ordering into small spaces on a routine basis. She thought he could get over his fear without being humiliated in front of the other pages every day.

"That's enough for today," she told him. "I won't ask you to do it again for a while, but—"

"But it would be a good idea for me to come down and practice on my own anyway," he finished.

She nodded, and gestured for him to follow her out.

MMMM

They found everyone gathered in the great hall when they arrived. Alanna was just asking Penelope if she had learned anything useful that afternoon when Kel stepped into earshot.

"Yes," said Penelope decisively. "I'm never having children."

"They look so angelic right now though," said George, pointing to Sarralyn, Kefira, and Nessaren who were seated around Silverspot and appeared to be attempting to pry her ears off her head.

"I couldn't imagine having children either when I was you age," Alanna told Penelope.

"Me neither," Kel agreed.

"Oh, I think I can imagine having children a little too well," Penelope explained. "It's my courage, and not my imagination that is at fault."

"I'd consider it wisdom and prudence rather than cowardice," Neal assured her. "They can be very loud," he added defensively as his wife glared at him.

"The real trick," Daine said, "is not to attempt to raise young Immortals and children at the same time."

"You want to tackle baby Immortals first," Kel explained, "because baby humans are much easier in comparison."

"I shall add that to my list of things to take into consideration," Penelope said gravely. Then, with a tiny smirk, and a wink at Neal, she added, "just after "avoid jousting accidents"." She bowed quickly, returned Neal's wolfish grin, and hurried off to change for supper.

Jon blinked after her. "Did she just suggest…I mean to say, was she referring to--"

"Hush, dear," said Thayet. "I want to catch this." She turned to watch Kel's annoyed muttering.

"I didn't quite hear that last bit," Neal was saying to Kel. "What was that about "cheek and impertinence" and a "volatile combination"?"

_. Thanks for reading and feel free to drop a review!_


	10. Midwinter

_Most of the characters aren't mine, they're Tamora Pierce's. I'm just playing with them in my spare time._

Kel stood in a weak patch of winter sun, ostensibly watching a group of pages at afternoon combat practice, but really entranced by the performance of two very young swordswomen.

A warm hand grasped her elbow and turned her away. "What's this Mindelan? Not dereliction of duty, surely." Dom's eyes danced from Kel to the mock dueling Sarralin and Kefira. Kel grinned in surprise; he was back a day early.

"No." Kel kissed him soundly, completely ignoring the wolf-whistles from her pages. "That was dereliction of duty," she informed him. She barked orders for them to continue while Dom scooped Kefira up, kissed her, and spun her around in a circle.

"I'm not the one to make accusations of dereliction of duty," he muttered once he'd set her down. "She seems to have doubled in size while I've been away."

"You should see Tobe," Kel told him.

"Impressive," Dom agreed, when Tobe and Daine arrived a few minutes later.

Tobe shook Dom's hand and allowed himself to be pounded on the back, before rushing back to some healing work in the stables.

"Don't overtire, yourself," Daine and Kel called after him.

"Hypocrites," he called back.

"I see the boy's learning to speak up for himself," Dom remarked. Daine and Kel shrugged sheepishly at each other.

"Thanks for watching her," Daine told Kel as she gathered up Sarralin.

"My pleasure," Kel replied, "though I think we ought to share the fun with Neal now that he's back; he got in just this morning, so I haven't seen him yet. His daughter must have been lonely without any companions her own age."

WWWWW

"I'm sure she'll get over this in a day or two," Kel told Dom as Kefira crouched behind the bed and refused to speak to him. "She was happy enough when you first arrived." Kel reached down and beckoned to Kefira, but the girl shook her head and refused to approach her mother.

"It's no less than I deserve," Dom sighed and shrugged out of his tunic. "She's too young to understand why I am away so long." Kel noticed blood on the front of his shirt and stood, biting her lip as she stepped towards him. "What?" he asked, before glancing down. "Oh, it's cracked again." He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it away carefully, revealing a long, oozing cut on his abdomen.

"What happened?" Kel demanded. "Has a healer seen to that?"

"Stormwing feather," he explained tersely, bending over to examine the wound. "We were attacked by an Immortal gang one night. It turns out some of the other Immortals have figured out how to weld the feathers into blades. Anyway, our healer was on sentry duty and he was killed straight off, so of few of my men patched it up as best they could once the fighting was over."

Kel stretched out her fingers and touched his belly just beside the cut. His skin was hot and he winced, stepping backwards. "And how well did they clean it?" she asked, sharply.

"We didn't have a whole lot in the way of supplies after the centaurs ransacked our camp," he muttered.

Kel wrapped her hands around his shoulders and backed him into a chair. "I'm getting Neal to look at this," she told. "Sit." She kissed his forehead. "And stay," she added, kissing him again before hurrying from the room.

WWWWW

Naturally, Dom waited until Kel had left before he stood and tiptoed over to Kefira. "I'm very sorry, Fira—" he began.

She whimpered and covered her eyes. Dom looked down and understood why. His infected cut was gaping and puss-covered. He grabbed his tunic off the bed and used it to hide the wound.

"There," he told her. "You can look now." She uncovered her eyes and blinked at him, wide-eyed. "Your Da's got a bad scratch is all," he explained.

She nodded rapidly. He bent and took another step towards her, but she put her hands on the floor and scooted away backwards. He sighed and swallowed back a groan. He clenched his teeth together and lowered himself to the floor, ignoring the tearing sensation in his muscles.

"How about if I just sit here and tell a story? Would that be alright?"

She nodded and cocked her head to one side, as though preparing to listen.

"Alright then. Once upon a time, and not so very long ago, there was a very brave little girl…"

WWWWW

"I thought I told you not to move," Kel scolded as she and Neal swept into the room. Her expression softened when she saw that Kefira had migrated into Dom's lap during her absence. She embraced both of them and then lifted Kefira away so that Neal could examine the wound.

"You're supposed to stop being stupid and stoic once you have a wife and kids," Neal informed him, frowning as he focused on burning out the infection. "I don't want to see you out of bed until the Mid-winter's eve party," he ordered when he had finished.

"But that's two days, surely I don—"

"I'm leaving enforcement to Kel." Neal grinned as he washed his hands.

Kefira scooted up to the bed and tugged on the covers. "Story," she demanded. Dom chuckled as Kel lifted their daughter onto the bed and lay down beside her.

"So," he said, fighting off a wave of post-healing drowsiness as Kefira nestled herself between them, "after she had rescued the puppy from the spidren…"

WWWWW

"Aren't you ready yet?" Neal asked as he stumbled into the sitting room of his suite at the palace.

He was greeted by two silent glares, a chuckle, and soft snore. Yuki stood beside the door, elegant as ever in a blue gown and holding their sleeping son, Galdric, in her arms. Penelope and Nessaren were perched side by side on the sofa, their heads bent over the book that Penelope was reading from and their hair glinting in the firelight. They might have been sisters. Penelope wore loose trousers and Nessaren a simple dress, but both were dressed in Queenscove colors. All four of them were ready to leave and it looked as though they had been for some time.

Neal was tempted to remark on how lucky it was that he didn't have to wait, but Penelope snapped the book shut and Yuki cleared her throat authoritatively and he decided against it. "Let's go then and see if Lady Alanna has arrived yet," he said cheerfully, bending over so that Penelope could lift Nessaren onto his shoulders.

"So," Penelope inferred as she accepted Galdric from Yuki so that Neal could take her arm, "punctuality is optional for knights."

Neal sighed loudly as he glanced back at his squire. "Beauty and intelligence are optional for squires, dear girl, but you don't seem to have lost them." He paused and cocked his head to one side. "Not yet, at any rate," he added, "although some days—"

"Dear, need I remind you that she is carrying your only son over a hard flagstone floor and you have already tried her patience considerably?" Yuki cut in.

Daine and Numair arrived with their children just then, and Neal found himself agreeing to watch all of their children—and Kel's—the next week. Yuki and Penelope didn't bother to conceal their wolfish grins as the group swept into the ballroom.

WWWWW

Kel watched Dom's face carefully as her family settled themselves in a corner. He was still very quiet and his lips kept twitching into a half-grimace. He wasn't alone; many of her friends and acquaintances who had recently returned to the palace sported some sort of wound and all of them seemed strained and exhausted.

Neal looked the same way, she realized, now that she saw him with the others. And so did Penelope—she seemed cheerful enough amidst the celebration, but her cheeks were pale and hollowed and Kel noticed that she stayed closer to Neal's family than was necessary for a squire. Penelope helped Yuki with the children and brought drinks for the adults instead of joining her year-mates.

"We've all had a difficult fall, I'm afraid," Neal told her when he noticed her observations. "She's seen quite a lot—dealt with a lot—saved my life more than once. I wouldn't want my daughter to have to—"

"She's not your daughter," Kel said firmly. "You can't protect her from her own decisions."

"I know," Neal answered. "I can only hope my daughter turns out as well."

"How could she not?" Kel asked, looking over to wear Nessaren and Kefira played. "Think about the role models you're surrounding her with."

"I try not to; you're all rather terrifying." He sighed and gave a helpless grin. "Anyway, we were nearly cornered by a pair of spidren the other day. They just came out at us out of nowhere and I'd gotten a bit turned around…"

"He means we were completely lost," Penelope put in flatly as she returned, passing mulled wine to Numair and Dom.

Neal grabbed her by her braid as soon as her hands were free, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Insubordinate squire," he complained, attempting to haul her away before she could reveal any more of his mistakes. Penelope stubbornly resisted being dragged away by her hair, trying to talk through Neal's fingers.

Suddenly, Penelope's eyes widened and she stopped struggling. She allowed herself to be pulled backwards, deliberately trampling Neal's feet as she twisted free. Kel turned and saw that Alanna had arrived, accompanied by George and followed by Dalton.

Neal reached out and grabbed Penelope's forearm before she darted away. "Careful," he reminded her, "the last thing you need right now is malicious gossip. You aren't at Pirate's Swoop anymore."

"Thanks," Penelope whispered.

Kel watched Penelope hurry away to greet the new arrivals, keeping a careful distance from Dalton. "Are they still…?" she asked Neal. "I would have thought they'd have drifted apart by now."

Neal just shrugged and winked at her.

WWWWW

Penelope met Dalton's eyes as she bowed formally to Lady Alanna and glanced quickly at a cluster of middle-aged conservatives who were eyeing her carefully. He gave her a tiny nod as he stepped forward to shake her hand.

"I hope to have the honor of a mock duel, soon Lady Penelope," he said carefully.

"The honor will be mine," Penelope answered smoothly, forming the hand signal for "outside" before her leg.

"Perhaps, tomorrow morning," he returned, signaling "tree" and "me first".

"I'll wait and take my turn second," Lady Alanna cut in, addressing both of them. "I hope you've been able to help Queenscove manage his ego, my dear."

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, my lady," Penelope replied, forcing herself not to watch Dalton as he slipped out of the ballroom. It was simply ridiculous; there was nothing romantic or exciting about it. How did other noblewomen manage endless covert meetings? She and Dalton had grown used to straightforward companionship at Pirate's Swoop; sweaty kisses behind the stables after practice and open conversation as they studied. She felt naked before so many courtiers—all of them seemed to be waiting for her to trip up.

"His children have helped immensely, of course," Penelope added, shaking herself out of her troubled reverie.

"Let's go see them then, shall we, I'd love to thank the newest arrival."

WWWWW

Dalton wrapped his cloak tightly about his shoulders as he reached the apple tree in the back garden and blinked up at the sky. It looked like snow. He sat down next to it to wait for Penelope. And to worry. She'd seemed so weary when she'd greeted him; and she'd been laughing so happily with Queenscove just beforehand. Could she have…But then, he was her knightmaster, and she had wanted to see him outside.

There was a noise in the bushes and he stood quickly. Penelope seemed to come out of nowhere and collide with him, wrapping her arms about him and burying her face against his chest. He laughed with relief and spun her about before setting her down to kiss her.

He ignored the tears streaming down her cheeks, knowing she wouldn't want them mentioned, but he winced when he felt the tension in her shoulders and the sharpness of her backbone. She frowned as she wrapped her arms around him again, and he knew that she noticed his own prominent ribs. It had been a difficult winter for both of them.

"We don't need to ask each other how we are, then," she whispered, setting her cheek over his heart as he pulled her closer.

"No," he said, as they sat side by side on the bench. "Why don't we start by listing the Immortals we didn't see?" he added, trying to speak lightly.

"Hurroks," she said simply.

"Me too, maybe we've earned ourselves a bit of a reputation."

She half-smiled and laid her head against his shoulder. "The worst were the Spidren," she said quietly. "Neal and I were sent out to rescue the boy they'd captured …we didn't make it in time." She leapt up and began pacing restlessly as she spoke. "I never thought I was squeamish about blood, but then they dropped his body out in front of us and there was so much of it…"

Dalton gripped the edges of the bench to keep himself from reaching out to grab her arm and pulling her to him as he listened to her jumbled account of the skirmish.

"…it was horrible though; I actually liked killing them, they was something so, so satisfying about it—I kept hacking at them even after they were all dead. Everyone—all the men who'd come to help us—stared at me after like I was some sort of creature too." She shivered as soon as she'd finished speaking. Her neck was covered in gooseflesh.

"We've all got a little monster in us. When we were attacking centaurs I always went for the human part instead of the horse part. There was something more innocent about their animal ends, but I could always hate their faces when I thought about what they had done." Realizing that she had no cloak, Dalton lifted the edge of his and nodded at her. "They wouldn't have cared so much if you were a boy; lots of soldiers get swept up in battle rage."

"I know," she whispered as she stepped under his arm and pull the cloak tight around both of them. "But I'm not allowed to become a monster; I'm supposed to be gentler and nobler and quieter than all of that."

"Who says? And you're not allowed to answer 'I say' or 'everyone says'."

She shook with silent laughter and he lifted a hand to tweak her nose and brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"You're just a generous listener," he said. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed her, ignoring her icy nose. "I don't always know what to say," he added soberly, "most of the time I don't have any idea. I had to tell a man his daughter had been killed by a taurus last week. There aren't any words for that kind of thing; so I just blurted it out and let him punch me."

"It's something of a relief, being an orphan," she told him. "Knowing my parents won't ever have to get news like that. It makes me feel better about risking everything." She shuddered again. "It's been a nightmare, but I can't imagine quitting. I couldn't just walk away from all of this."

Dalton sighed. He could imagine it, imagine running home and hiding behind a desk for the rest of his days. He knew he wouldn't, but still, it was tempting. "You are a most remarkable creature," he told Penelope as they sat together on a bench.

"You're rather inspiring yourself," she answered, settling against him.

WWWWW

Neal chuckled softly when he found them sleeping with their backs against the tree and blissfully ignorant of the descending snow flurries. He hadn't seen his squire looking so untroubled or unguarded in months. Only the snow and the thought of the scandal that would arise if anyone else found them kept him from tiptoeing away.

They both startled, reaching for belt knives that they weren't carrying, when he shook them awake. They jumped to their feet when they recognized him. Penelope kept a defiant grip on Dalton's hand, but she twisted her lips together as though she were trying to think up an explanation.

"Don't bother," he told her. "I knew I'd be playing fairy godmother when I took you on. Besides, I'd hate to have rumors going around that my illicit young mistress was cheating on me. Just see to it that certain Lady Knights don't hear about any more of my shortcomings."

"Yes, sir, " they both saluted. And Dalton kissed Penelope's cheek and shook Neal's hand before darting away.

"You're awfully cynical for a hopeless romantic," she told Neal as they set off for his suite.

"Speaking of which, I told Nessa to let us sleep and wake you instead tomorrow morning."

"But it's midwinter, she'll be up before dawn," Penelope protested.

"It'll give you plenty of time to get ready for your practice bout with Lady Alanna," Neal informed her. "By the way, you're not to let her disarm you until her third try. I have a considerable sum of money resting on it."

"I should never have left you unsupervised," Penelope said glumly.

"The cold has muddled your wits, dear girl," Neal said, clapping an arm about her shoulders. "I'm supposed to be saying that about you."

WWWWW

"I take it you've recovered from your financial losses this morning," Kel asked Dom as he bent to collect a fistful of snow.

"Nearly," he answered, grinning as he packed the snow into a missile. "I'll never underestimate one of your protégés again."

"See that you don't," Kel said, stepping forwards to kiss him. They were interrupted when a snowball connected squarely with Kel's ear.

She turned sharply and saw Penelope and Neal standing side by side with their hands behind their backs and their faces innocently upturned.

Dom launched his snowball at Neal, but he miscalculated and it ended up hitting Numair, who blamed George for the attack. An all-out battle began which temporarily distracted all of them from their worries. Seeing George and Alanna behaving more like vengeful teenagers than Tobe, Penelope and Dalton, Kel forget about keeping up a staid and serious façade. Silverspot and a few of Daine's other friends charged out of the forest to join the snow war. Silverspot tangled herself in Numair's long legs so that he fell, knocking Dalton over. Inspired, Daine transformed into a large white arctic bear and scattered snow over everyone.

When the fighting was over, they all collapsed, wet and red-faced, on the snow. Sarralin, completely unfazed by her mother's teeth and claws, scrambled onto Daine's back and demanded a ride. Nessaren and Kifira hurried to join her. Daine lurched good-naturedly to her feet, growled softly at Tobe, and began lumbering up the hill. Tobe positioned himself at her side and trotted along beside her, ready to catch any of the girls if they slipped.

Kel chuckled as she listened to Neal's remarks about the difficulties of raising "abnormally fearless children". The girls were a thrilling sight on the bear, looking more like something out of a fairy tale than an ordinary midwinter afternoon. She glanced quickly at the sky, wondering if they ought to be heading home soon.

"Don't," Alanna told her, voice slightly muffled by her hood and scarf. "You have to savor moments like this, otherwise you might wake up one day and find that you've forgotten what you're fighting for." Kel nodded as a strong, gloved hand released her shoulder and grabbed Penelope's instead.

"You have to let your walls down to love and laugh a little every so often." She leaned forward to whisper in the girl's ear, "but try not to stay out too late doing it—you might have beat me this morning if you'd been better rested." She winked quickly at Neal and Dalton and then strolled over to join George and Numair. Kel spent the afternoon following her advice.


	11. Unexpected Lessons

_I'm back again. Hooray for the end of finals! This episode is a bit darker than the last one—Tortall is once again going through rough times—but it's not without its hopeful moments and I promise it sets up future action and excitement. If you want humor check out Good Question, my recent one-shot about Neal and Alanna. These are Tamora Pierce's characters etc. and I am just borrowing them for an afternoon's entertainment. _

Kel sat motionless at her end of the conference table, listening to the grim news in silence. The king had called an emergency meeting a two days after midwinter to discuss the handling of "the new Immortal Situation"—the gangs of Immortals that were banding together and combining their magical and physical powers to attack humans, frequently defeating both warriors and mages. As training master she had automatically been invited, but she couldn't think of anything meaningful to contribute.

Daine described the recent gang movements that her animals spies had reported. Numair's hand rested upon the back of her neck in a way that made Kel wish Dom had been invited. She'd have felt more comfortable with his implicit support, but he was back in her suite, watching Kefira and waiting for her.

Stop, she scolded herself, it's not as though no one here trusts you. Alanna and Thayet sat on either side of the king. Raoul sat with Buri across from Kel and he shot her encouraging looks when he wasn't busy reporting on casualties within the King's Own. (Of course, each one of these reports stiffened Kel's spine as she thought of what might have happened to Dom.) Lord Wyldon was there as well, though all of his attention was directed at the king and he hadn't addressed Kel.

The reports went on for hours and each one made Kel feel more helpless. She loved working with the pages, loved training future knights, but she hated the fact that she wasn't out fighting the monster gangs. If it weren't for Kefira, she would have been out fighting in a heartbeat. But in the palace there was nothing she could do, she could only prepare those who would be sent out to fight, like Penelope and Dalton, and hope they came back whole.

"Excuse me, your majesty," Daine said, standing and interrupting a long and particularly unhelpful rant from the conservative Lord Gerard. "I'm afraid my children are beginning to stir from their afternoon nap and I will have to leave very shortly." Jonathon nodded his approval. Numair got to his feet and took Daine's hand as they made their way to the door.

Kel felt a touch of envy at Daine's ability to stand up and walk away from a meeting because her family needed her. The Wildmage was so powerful and so respected that even Lord Gerard had grudgingly swallowed back his anger at being interrupted. If Kel tried to get up and leave she would immediately be accused of being unprofessional, unfit for holding the position of training master. She bit back a sigh as she thought longingly of supper with her family.

Apparently Buri felt the same way because she cleared her throat loudly, forcing Lord Gerard to cut short his tangent about damage to his family castle.

Thayet smiled at Buri before nudging her husband and reminding him that it was getting rather late.

"I do not think we can accomplish any more this evening, your majesty," remarked Lord Wyldon. "I suggest that we adjourn for the time being and reconvene in a few weeks time once a few of the strategies we've discussed have been put into practice." He turned his head ever so slightly and nodded discretely at Kel. She caught her breath in surprise before she recovered and nodded back.

"Good," Jon said, "I'd been getting hungry."

Relieved chuckles echoed around the table as the council stood and dispersed. Kel waved at Raoul before he hurried off with Buri. Then Alanna stepped over and invited her to a small get together in her suite the following afternoon. Kel accepted eagerly, knowing it would be her last chance to relax before the pages' training started up again. She glanced around for Lord Wyldon as she emerged from the council room but he was nowhere to be seen. That was probably for the best; she wasn't sure how he would respond to her thanking him.

Kel stepped wordlessly into Dom's arms when he greeted her at the door to their suite.

"That bad?" he asked.

She nodded and laid her forehead against his shoulder, unable to explain how much she worried about him, how useless she felt when everyone else was out fighting.

He sighed and she felt his breath ruffle her hair before he lifted his hand and cradled the back of head. They stood silent and motionless for a long time—Kel had no idea how long—until she remembered Kefira and lifted her head suddenly.

"She's asleep," Dom said, giving a deep chuckle that chased the numbness from Kel's mind. "She couldn't be persuaded to settle down for an afternoon nap, but she seems to have made up for it with an early bedtime." He wrapped an arm around Kel's shoulders, noticing how tight and stiff they were, and escorted her to their daughter's cot.

Kel smiled at her daughter, snoring quietly with one arm wrapped around a toy lion, and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. She didn't bother adjusting the blankets; Dom had already done an expert job tucking her in.

"I thought you might not want to go down for supper after…all of that," he said. "So I went rummaging in the kitchens and brought up some bread and cheese for us."

"Thanks," she said shakily, realizing she'd been so unsettled that she hadn't said a word to him yet. Her words came out in dry mouthed whisper. "I'm sorry," she told him, "I shouldn't have come back like—"

He kissed her before she could finish. "No, Kel," he said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to meet his gaze, "you shouldn't feel guilty about not being out there." He reached over and grabbed a blanket of the bed, wrapping it around the two of them as they made their way to the sitting room. "We both know that in here really isn't any safer than out there."

"I know," she answered, settling her head against his shoulder once they'd finished eating. "I just hate the thought of sending anyone out there unprepared."

"I know," he whispered, wrapping his arms about her once more. "That's why they need you here."

Kel woke early and slid out of Dom's arms, taking care not to wake him. She walked over to Kefira's room and peeked in to be sure her daughter was still asleep. She dressed quickly, scribbled a note for Dom, and grabbed her glaive before heading to the practice courts.

At first Kel thought they were empty. Then she noticed two figures dueling at the far end. Kel shrugged and stepped into her most complicated pattern dance, wanting to work away the previous day's frustrations. She pushed all her thoughts away until nothing touched her mind but her breath, her heartbeat, and her blade.

It wasn't until Kel had finished and stood panting beside her blade that she realized that the duel had migrated across the courts and the duelers were only a few paces from her. She gasped when she recognized them: Lord Wyldon and Penelope. They remained oblivious to her, fighting at a furious pace.

Then suddenly Penelope's sword went clattering across the courtyard and the girl found herself flat on her back with Lord Wyldon's sword point hovering just above her neck. Kel laid her glaive on the ground and walked over to retrieve the sword, staring at Wyldon and Penelope.

He slowly pulled his blade away without taking his eyes off Penelope, who was breathing hard through flaring nostrils and holding herself motionless. "Well fought, Proudcreek." He bent and offered her a hand up. Penelope hesitated a moment before setting her small hand into his large gloved one. "I think that was instructive for both of us," he remarked as he helped her to her feet, "but your left down-sweep needs work."

She nodded gravely at him as he released her hand. "Thank you, sir, I will take care not to repeat that mistake."

Lord Wyldon caught Kel's eye and twitched his chin slightly. Kel raised her eyebrows in return.

"Perhaps you would be will to trade weapons with Lady Keladry for a few moments and borrow her glaive while she uses your sword."

"Certainly, my lord." Penelope stepped away and lifted Kel's glaive, beginning a pattern dance.

Kel shrugged and hefted Penelope's sword to gauge its weight—it was lighter than hers, Penelope wasn't much bigger than Lady Alanna. Kel stepped into a guard stance before Lord Wyldon. They fought silently for a time, watching each other carefully and finding themselves evenly matched.

"How are you?" Wyldon asked after a time. "I expect you found yesterday trying."

Kel nodded. He wasn't searching for a weakness or trying to distract her. He seemed genuinely concerned and this was his best opportunity for speaking with her without causing speculation.

"I'm managing," she told him. "I regret not being able to …do more." She glanced at Penelope and shouted "straighten your arm out," before returning to her match with Wyldon.

"You seem to have passed off a decent lot of squires in your first batch." He glanced quickly at Penelope.

"That's more to their credit than mine," Kel confessed, twisting her blade around to keep him from disarming her. "There's only so much I can, only so much anyone can do, to prepare them for the gangs that are out there now," she added, stepping forward to attack him. "Even seasoned soldiers aren't sure how to manage them."

"You might try asking them."

Kel frowned, unsure what her meant. "Your youngsters, the ones who been out and come back," he explained. "Ask them what was hardest or worst and see if you can find a way to get the others ready for it."

"Let my students decide how they should have been taught, you mean?" Kel asked, wondering if Neal had had the right of it all along when he announced that Wyldon was going mad in his old age.

"Certainly," Wyldon answered, taking advantage of her astonishment to disarm her. "They're quite remarkable creatures," he added, as he bent to retrieve Penelope's sword and hand it back to her. "I wasn't as …flexible as you are, Mindelan, and I didn't begin learning from my students until late in life. I think you've already been learning from yours. One in particular seem to have taught you how to manage all sorts of unique circumstances." There was a trace of humor in his voice as his eyes flickered towards Penelope, who appeared to be innocently absorbed in a pattern dance. "Best wishes, Mindelan. I'll see you in a few weeks." He saluted her shortly and departed before she could call a farewell.

"How did that happen?" Kel wondered aloud.

"He's sharp" Penelope said as she returned Kel's glaive, her arms shaking with exhaustion. "I couldn't sleep this morning, so I came out here to practice on my own. He was here when I got here, only I didn't see him at first. He watched me for a few minutes and then he came up and introduced himself. He seemed to be hoping you'd show up. I told him that you came most mornings around this time. And then he asked me for a practice bout and I was afraid to say no even though the idea terrified me. But it wasn't bad actually; he was… he attacked properly. He didn't go easy on me or get vicious like some men do…he was fair." Penelope shrugged as she realized and then frowned thoughtfully.

"Good," Kel said. "I hope you learned something."

"About that," Penelope said, suddenly speaking softly and quickly. "The hardest part—aside from actually killing and that you just can't be ready for—is fighting something so big. Being attacked by something ten times your size—we weren't ready for that last fall." She flushed suddenly and looked at the ground.

"So you think it would help if pages got a chance to learn how to fight something big?"

"Yeah, a little, anyway." Penelope shrugged, suddenly looking very young.

"Thanks," said Kel. She reached out and clasped Penelope's shoulder and handed her sword back to her. "I'll see what I can do." Then she remembered that Penelope didn't have a mother, just an odd aunt, and she wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "Let me know if you think of any thing else."

"Thanks," said Penelope, managing a small smile. "I will."

Kel was relieved to see that Penelope was her cheeky, cheerful self again that afternoon when her family gathered with Raoul's, Neal's, and Daine's in Alanna's suite. Penelope spun all four little girls around in circles until they were dizzy and then settled beside Dalton to watch him loose a game of chess to George.

"There's something very pleasant about watching other people's children wear themselves out, eat sweets, and miss their naps, knowing I won't have to deal with the consequences," Alanna murmured wickedly to Kel as she served tea.

"Be careful lass," George called. "Or we'll have all our godsdaughters left with us in one afternoon. And when did you ever deal with consequences."

"When you taught them to pick pockets just before Lady Helena came for a visit and I had to clear our servants of her accusations."

"You just enjoyed having a chance to yell at the old bat," George protested. Numair took advantage of George's momentary distraction to whisper a hint in Dalton's ear.

Kel smiled, settling back in the corner to watch the girls chase Silverspot around the room until they collapsed in a tired heap on the thick rug. She frowned as she considered the morning's conversation but didn't mention her thoughts to Alanna or Neal. Dom had suggested that she work Penelope's suggestion—something large—into some sort of mock battle. Kel liked the idea but she wasn't sure how to go about doing it.

Inspiration struck when Daine, who was sitting on the rug with Tobe discussing his planned involvement in the Riders' spring training, transformed her hand into a cat's paw and took a playful swipe at him.

"Penelope," Kel said slowly. "Do you think a bear would be big enough?"

Penelope lifted her head off Dalton's shoulder and glanced from Kel to Daine and back again before nodding. Her eyes had an amused glint at them as she swiveled around and tucked her chin under her knees.

"Daine," Kel said casually. "Assuming I could arrange for childcare, would you mind accompanying me and a few pages on a little forest excursion next week?"

"No problem," Daine said absently, returning immediately to her conversation with Tobe.

"What exactly did she just agree to, may I ask?" Numair appeared to have recognized the calculating expression in Kel's eyes and he watched her with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, nothing much," said Dom, as he flicked his eyes towards Penelope who was biting her lip to keep from grinning, "just a spot of target practice, I imagine."

"You're welcome to join us," Kel added hastily. And then as inspiration struck yet again, "in fact, I would be most grateful for your assistance."

Five Days Later

But it was their good humor and kindness, that Kel was most grateful for as she led a group of pages to a hillside beside the Royal Forest and divided them into teams. They kept her from becoming depressed as she remembered the difficult goodbyes she had exchanged with Dom that morning. Watching him mount up and lead his troops away while she stood holding Kefira had been even harder than she'd imagined it would be.

The first team of pages was more than a little alarmed when Daine came charging at them in bear form and they nearly panicked when Numair cast an impenetrable black cloud around them, but after a few minutes they calmed enough to focus on defending themselves from Daine's playful swipes and began a counterattack. The next two groups did even better. Daine and Numair kept the fight challenging as the groups cycled through, coordinating their efforts seamlessly so that the pages were forced to think on their feet amidst the flying snow and the possibility that Numair might render one of them motionless at any moment.

Eventually, Tobe grabbed a padded weapon and moved into the fray. Kel suspected that he enjoyed the rare chance to swing something at his teacher. Daine of course knocked Tobe aside effortlessly at his first approach.

Kel finally called an end to the games when it was time to return her pages to the palace for their afternoon lessons. Most of the pages hurried to gather their discarded hats and scarves, but Thomson and Selina remained near the bear. Kel watched them carefully—Selina was only a second year and Thomson was a large third year who struck her as capable of bullying and they seemed to be arguing—but Selina slipped away from him, and shot him an impudent look as she wrapped her arms around Daine's neck.

Daine grumbled and then bent so Selina could climb onto her back. Then she bounded up to Kel and Numair and knocked them over into the snow with two quick jerks of her head. Selina laughed with delight and then shrieked when Daine spun around and sent her flying. Kel watched in dazed amazement as Thomson walked over and helped her Selina up, handing returning her hat and clapping her on the back. All of the pages—with the exception of a few surly conservatives—broke into applause. Kel groaned and pushed herself into a sitting position.

Kel glanced over at Numair and saw that Daine was nudging him onto his feet. He grimaced at Kel. "Admittedly, I'm in no position to criticize other people for being bowled over by insubordinate students, Keladry, but you ought to try and exert a little more authority." His last words were somewhat muffled because Daine transformed into an ermine and wrapped herself affectionately about his neck.

"They dared her to ask me," Daine explained as she followed Kel and Numair down the hallway, moving slowly because she was sore from the day's battle. "And I couldn't refuse because she asked very politely."

"Yes," Kel muttered. "Lady Selina has always been well-mannered."

Numair let out a loud, long suffering sigh and Kel was very tempted to imitate him.

Penelope and Neal were bent together over an assortment of books and scrolls; it was part of Neal's secret ongoing research on the early warrior maidens.

"This one reminds me of you, somehow," Neal muttered.

"Is that a compliment or a suggestion that I might end badly?" She said, scowling as soon as she'd read the scroll.

"With me as your knight master, I'm afraid it's both," he told her after a moment's consideration.

Then Silverspot stood and walked to the door and they had to scramble to hide the books and scrolls before Kel and Daine returned.

Kel raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment, deciding she might be better off not knowing just what Penelope and Neal were up to.

_But I'm sort of interested in what Penelope and Neal are up to, so the next episode will probably follow them (and Alanna and Dalton) with brief glimpses of Kel teaching Kefira to use a glaive. Assuming real life doesn't interfere too much it should be up by early June. Thank you for reading and please review. _


	12. Neal's Squire

_Back again, with some action this time. Most of the characters and the location belong to the great Tamora Pierce, may she write many more books set in Tortall. _

"Just care for my horse and run these packs up to our room," Neal told Penelope, as he passed her his reins. They were joining a small group of knights and squires to tackle a Spidren infestation in a nearby village. They'd ridden all day and still arrived behind all of the other knights who had taken over most of the rooms—there were just enough conservatives present that Neal suspected it was deliberate. As far as he was concerned, the only positive aspect was that Lord Raoul would be arriving to lead the attack the next morning. "I'll bring up supper and a spare mattress as soon as I've settled a few things with the innkeeper. We both ought to turn in early tonight." Neal reached over and tugged quickly at her braid as she led Magewhisper away.

"Eager to get her into your bed, are you Queenscove?" Ferrol chuckled darkly as Penelope passed him. He was Sir Kendal's squire, and a few years older than Penelope. She darted quickly into the nearest empty stall, knowing her cheeks were flushed with anger and not wanting Ferrol to read this as a sign of embarrassment. He'd always been something of a bully when they were pages and she suspected that he hadn't improved with age.

"Funny you should make that assumption young Ferrol. I can't help wondering if it's a reflection of your relationship with your own knight master." The words slid out of Neal's mouth before he could stop them; he was too tired to control his temper. He watched Penelope as she emerged from Magewhisper's stall and marched towards the grain bin with clenched fists. They usually tried to laugh off the malicious gossip, but he suspected that it bothered her more than she admitted. Neal had worried about it a bit himself before Yuki informed him that she found all of it "highly unbelievable but rather amusing in a disturbing sort of way".

"The lad's just jealous is all," Sir Kendal said smoothly as he emerged from a shadowy stall. Neal cursed silently as he recognized the man. "It must be nice having a pretty, young traveling companion to see to all your needs." Neal gritted his teeth to keep from making another impolite remark as his squire returned with a full bucket. "I wouldn't even bother with the pretense of ordering a spare mattress if she were my charge," Kendal continued, reaching out suddenly to wrap suggestive fingers about Penelope's neck.

Penelope flinched. Neal leapt forward, but before he could reach them Penelope had jerked and twisted violently, knocking Sir Kendal to the ground and overturning her grain bucket.

"I make my own sleeping arrangements," she said in a dangerously calm voice, "and you will never be included in them."

Neal bent down and retrieved the bucket, handing it to her as Sir Kendal shouted orders to his squire and marched out of the stables.

"Impressive," Neal muttered.

"Mindelan taught me a few tricks last summer." She shrugged. "I'll see you in bit."

Neal nodded and turned to follow Sir Kendal so that he could finish paying the innkeeper.

Penelope hurried through her grooming of Appleblossum and Magewhisper, currying away mud in quick motions. Appleblossom seemed to sense her anger and lipped playfully at her elbow when she had finished. Penelope sighed and checked to see that both animals had food and water before gathering the packs and starting for the inn.

For once, Ferrol didn't bother with growling insults as he lunged at her, so she had no warning before he rammed her against the stable wall. She dropped the packs and ground her teeth to keep from moaning as pain shot through her shoulder. Her right arm was useless, she realized as she bit the fingers he had clamped over her mouth. She twist, slammed one knee into his groin, and kicked sharply at his kneecap, drawing her belt knife with her left hand as soon as he had released her.

She glanced around and realized that the stables were empty. They were alone; she was injured and he was angry—it was a situation pulled straight from a nightmare. He pulled out his own belt-knife and lunged at her again. She ducked and shook her head, trying to clear it of the ringing that filled her ears. He grabbed her right arm and tried to pull her to the ground but she slashed at his hand with her knife. He released her only to slice into her thigh with his own knife. She swore and nearly dropped her own knife, deciding that she needed to end this now, regardless of how much she had to hurt him.

Neal fought back panic as he hurried out to the stables, telling himself there were plenty of reasons why Penelope might not have made it make to their room yet.

He felt a rush of unreasonable pride and fear when he saw them, with their knives against each other's throats, locked in stalemate. Then Penelope saw him and gave a quick kick, twisting to get of Ferrol's reach. They were both already bleeding from several cuts, but Ferrol looked capable of walking.

"Leave now," Neal said, grabbing Ferrols collar and shoving him towards the door. "I'm not interested in any of your excuses. I'll discuss this with Sir Kendal later. And find another healer to see to your injuries because I won't." Ferrol let out a string of curses before staggering away, clutching at the cut on his side.

Penelope backed into a bale of hay and sat on it, breathing raggedly.

"Steady," Neal told her, tapping her nose gently with on finger.

She nodded at him and began breathing through her nose. "Packs are back there," she muttered, gesturing with her knife.

Neal nodded and realized that she was holding it in the wrong hand. He took a closer look and saw that her shoulder had been dislocated.

"Bastard," he hissed.

"That's what I called him," Penelope muttered. "Although now that I consider the matter I regret not putting a few choice modifiers in front of it." She set clenched her fingers and made an unsuccessful attempt at standing.

"I'm sorry," Neal said.

"You haven't done anything wrong," Penelope snapped.

"I shouldn't have left you alone with him," Neal muttered.

"We both thought that philosophical debate had ended," she said, slowly pushing herself to her feet. "And you're supposed to be my knight master, not my body guard."

Neal sighed, watching her wobbly steps towards the door. "I should have just let the first insult slide though and not retaliated."

"But that was the high point of my day," she protested and attempted to shrug, nearly falling as the motion jarred her body.

"That's only because it was followed by such a low point," he grumbled as he stepped forward and scooped her into his arms so that he could carry her up to their room.

"I can walk," she protested. "This is just going to encourage the gossipers."

"Then you had better start coming up with some jaw-dropping retaliatory remarks, oh fair and terrible squire. You are currently only capable of managing a pathetic hobble."

"What are you going to tell Sir Kendal?" she asked quietly.

"You let me worry about that."

"Are you this evasive with all the girls you sweep off their feet and carry away?"

"No," Neal answered, "just the clever ones who are heavier than they look and impress me with their ability to overturn grain buckets on military veterans."

"The problem is that they haven't been properly introduced to Yuki," Penelope remarked, once Neal had fixed her shoulder.

"I don't know," Neal called over his shoulder, as rummaged in his pack for bruise-balm and bandages. "Most of them know I'm married and seem to enjoy speculating about my infidelity. There's still a charming rumor going around that Kefira is mine and I paid Dom to claim responsibility for my indiscretions with Kel."

"She's far too well behaved to be yours," she remarked. "What I meant by properly introduced to Yuki was really introduced to her marvelous fan."

"I'd suggest you carry one," Neal said, frowning as he gathered a handful of magic to tackle one of her cuts, "but you seem to have found your own effective silencing techniques."

They both remained quiet while he finished her healing, and she was so exhausted when he finished that Neal didn't feel particularly guilty about setting a hand on her forehead and sending her to sleep without any warning. She snored faintly as he pulled off her boots and tucked her in.

Lord Raoul's voice yelling orders in the inn's courtyard woke them the next morning. Penelope sat up and rubbed her eyes, disoriented. Glancing around she realized that she was still in the bed, while Neal was stretched out on her cot with his feet hanging off the end. She flung the covers off and stalked to the washstand to splash water against her face.

"Well, Queenscove," she said as she laced up her boots, "I seem to have spent the night in your bed after all."

He shot her a good-natured scowl. "And it has left you entirely too cheerful, whilst my night on your humble pallet has done nothing to improve my morning temper."

"That," Penelope intoned, "would require a miracle."

Only minutes later they were standing next to their saddled horses, eating breakfast on foot as they listened to Lord Raoul's instructions for eliminating the nearby immortal gang.

" My Sergeant and I will tackle the giant if there is one, I want the rest of you to focus on the centaurs while my men attempt to round up the Spidren."

Dom just had time to wander over and punch Neal's shoulder, telling Penelope she'd done a fine job making sure his shoes were tied that morning, before they were ordered to mount up.

It was the longest day of fighting in Penelope's life thus far. Though she never suffered any life-threatening injuries, she lost count of the bruises and scrapes and of the number of kills she and her companions made. She spent the morning hunting down centaurs, ducking hooves and swords as she fought to prevent their escape. In the afternoon she helped set a Spidren nest on fire to exterminate a batch of Spidren young. The screams were awful and the scorched smell was even worse.

By sunset, when the yells went up announcing that the battle had been won, Penelope had been separated from Neal. She looked about, moving carefully lest she disturb a hidden immortal, for Dom or Raoul or any of the men she knew. She swallowed hard when she realized that the only one she recognized was Sir Kendal. Her heart beat alarmingly fast, but she tried to act casually as she began making her way past him in the direction of the shouting voices, taking care not to sheath her sword.

Kendal turned and leered at her as she stepped onto the bridge with him, and Penelope saw that he had a nasty gash across one cheek. She hesitated a minute, debating whether or not she should offer to fetch a healer.

"How many men died for you today?" he snarled.

Penelope blinked at him and sidestepped away so that stood at the furthest possible edge of the bridge from him

"How many good soldiers did you distract today?" he continued. "And how many will you beckon tonight, only to attack them when you worry that Queenscove will be jealous." He drew his sword and stepped towards her; she glanced around anxiously, afraid to call for help. "How much of Tortall will you poison with your lies? My squire was right to try and put you in your place, but I'm not sure that's possible—" he lunged suddenly at her—"I'll do my kingdom a favor and finish you now."

It was her first swordfight against another human who was actually trying to kill her and she threw herself into it. Still, her fight was mostly defensive; Sir Kendal was an expert swordsman, even injured, and he was determined. Their swords flew as she blocked and parried frantically. Occasionally she got a chance to attack, but she never managed to do more than scratch his arm. Meanwhile, he left several shallow cuts across her own arms and she began to feel her injuries from the previous day.

Suddenly their swords were locked together, hilt to hilt. Penelope instinctively leapt backwards, plunging off the bridge and into icy water. She came to the surface, sputtering and managed to plant her feet, nearly dropping her sword. The river was waist deep and the current was strong. All of her muscles began to stiffen and buckle and her heavy leather gear weighed her down. She began trudging towards the bank, shivering and gasping.

Kendal roared and lunged for her again, swinging furiously. She got her sword up just in time and the point speared his belly as he jumped down upon her. Penelope's sword was wrenched from her grasp as Kendal's body hit the water. A cloud of blood filled the water around them and she watched helpless as he gasped and sputtered and then went still.

'Someone fetch the Commander; she's killed Sir Kendal," a voice cried. Penelope numbly recognized it as Ferrol's.

Fortunately it was soon joined by other voices, one of which sounded vaguely familiar. "Take my hand." Penelope grasped the hand before her and recognized Dom. He was standing next to her on the bridge and she allowed him to guide her over to the riverbank and help her out of the water.

Some of his men fished Sir Kendal's body from the river and another restrained Ferrol, while Dom helped her out of her leather vest and draped a horse blanket over her shoulders. She shivered uncontrollably as she was led to a tent. Lord Raoul ordered Ferrol to stop shouting and listened to Dom's defense of Penelope.

"I'm sure it won't be necessary to try her for treason," he said gruffly, glancing out the tent flap at the darkening sky. "As soon as her knight master finishes with his healing work, I'll have one of the mages perform a truth spell and she can give us her own testimony."

Penelope was perched on a folding stool, still damp and cold when Neal found her. She lifted her head slowly but did not speak when he entered.

"Here," he said, "Lord Raoul said you could change first and Dom's going to bring you some tea."

She raised an eyebrow upon discovering that the pile of dry clothing he gave her contained a breast band and a hairbrush. On the rare occasions when he had anything to do with her gear, he tended to forget that she was female.

"Lady Alanna's on her way here," he said by way of explanation, "but she sent me very detailed instructions for your care in the meantime."

"Thanks," Penelope croaked, surprised and encouraged.

Neal glared pointedly at the man who had been assigned to 'guard' his squire until he left and then followed him out, drawing the tent flap closed behind him. She slipped out as soon as she had made herself presentable, looking pale and tired and still shivering. Neal reached out and took one of her hands, squeezing it gently. She looked up at him and twitched her lips nervously. Dom passed her a cup of tea and the two of them accompanied her to Lord Raoul's tent were Ferrol and the mage waited.

Penelope spoke quietly but clearly as she answered Raoul's questions, very much aware of the men trying to hear her testimony outside the tent. He made her describe the events of the previous day as well as Kendal's attack and Penelope stared into the corner as she spoke, refusing to glance at either Ferral or Neal.

"The fault here lies in a knight's angry pride and blindness and his squire's ignorance and jealousy," Raoul pronounced when she had fallen silent. Lady Penelope acted to preserve her own life against an unprovoked attack and she has endured quite enough. Ferrol's fate I shall leave to the king and perhaps the Chamber." He gestured to dismiss Ferrol and the mage, before turning to Neal. "I suggest that you travel with Lady Alanna for a time—I think you might find the company more agreeable."

"What he means," Dom explained, "is that Lady Alanna has announced her intention of escorting you for a time, whether you like the idea or not."

"More proof that great minds think alike," Neal said calmly. And Penelope smiled at the thought of seeing Dalton and being tutored by Lady Alanna.

"I expect you'll have us all snapping to attention one day, just like she does." Lord Raoul spoke quietly to Penelope while Dom remarked that Neal's sharing an obvious thought with Lady Alanna was no indication of a great mind. Penelope shrugged and shook Raoul's hand. "I'm afraid you'll have to live through a few more years of gossip and scandal first though," he told her. "Rumors about Mindelan and me were never quite so disturbing—she was my squire you know—"

"I should think they would have been even more disturbing," Penelope said, without thinking, "Neal's not quite old enough to be my father." She gave an apologetic shrug when she realized what she'd said.

Raoul merely chuckled and said, "at any rate, the scandal surrounding little Kefira's birth seems to have created a few men who would rather attack your reputation than acknowledge your strength and skill. I wish you the best of luck in facing them."

"I'm afraid it will be more about ability than luck, sir," she murmured as Neal pulled her from the tent.

Neal watched Penelope's face as they ate and shared an after dinner brandy (as per Lady Alanna's orders.) She lapsed into a troubled frown whenever she wasn't answering one of his questions.

"Allow me to inform you that you were absolutely brilliant this afternoon," he said, as they walked upstairs.

"Does brilliant mean cold, wet, and terrified?" she asked morosely.

Neal paused for a moment as he concentrated on unlocking their door. "Yes, oh fair and terrible squire, sometimes is does," he said finally.

"Then I think I'm willing to settle for just 'impressive' most of the time," she said, cocking her head to one side and giving him the ghost of a smile.

"You'll have to run that by Lady Alanna." Neal grinned in relief and winked at his squire."

_Yes, I realize that Kel and Kefira made no appearance in this chapter and I promise that you will get to hear what they've been up to in a later episode. However, I've stumbled upon an intriguing subplot with Neal, Alanna, Penelope, and Dalton and I want to keep exploring it. I could start a separate fanfic for Penelope (which I would start towards the end of her page years and which would follow Penelope and Dalton, incorporating scenes from this story) or I could continue following Penelope in Training Master Mindelan since she is one of Kel's favorite squires and will be spending lots of time with Dom and Neal. Please review and let me know which you'd prefer. _


	13. Porridge and Palace Gossip

_Hello again, and sorry about the delay in posting. Life has been a little crazy this week and most of my free time was poured into the original novel I'm working on. Your reviews kept me enthusiastic about all my writing projects. This episode follows Penelope and Neal and takes place the day after the last one ended. Once again, I've just brought a few of my own puppets and set them loose in Tamora Pierce's amazing playground. Enjoy! _

"We'll make camp at the western side of the valley and you can meet us there around sunset." Neal watched Penelope's back as he spoke to Alanna through the mage mirror. She seemed to stiffen with each word he spoke and her head drooped slightly with exhaustion.

"Be a clever lad and have supper ready; I'm likely to be as hungry and grumpy as a black bear," Alanna told him before vanishing in a pale purple blaze.

Penelope came to a fork in the road and halted Appleblossom. She let him pass her without speaking and followed him down the correct path.

After a half-hour of listening only to hoof beats and birdsong, Neal turned back to look at her. "I know you don't want to talk about yesterday, but could you at least recite a ballad so that I can attempt to correct you and we can have a nice squabble? The silence is unnerving me."

She shrugged listless and shook her head, so they rode in silence until Neal called a halt and dismounted to begin unpacking.

"Don't all the voices in your head keep you sufficiently entertained?" she asked once she'd dismounted.

"They aren't all scintillating conversationalists like you," he informed her as he pulled a pot from his pack to begin preparing stew, "in fact, when they all agree with each other and start up a chorus they can be quite dull."

"Forgive me if I do not express proper sympathy," she said, removing Appleblossom's saddle and draping it over a log. She took the pot from him, planning to fill in with water while he started a fire. "I have rather the opposite difficulty at the moment," she called over her shoulder as she marched towards the creek.

Neal scowled at the fire his was building until Mage Whisper bent over and snorted against his shoulder, spraying halfway digested grass into his ear. Then he turned around and glared at his horse.

Penelope mustered an amused snort at the sight of the two stubborn animals standing nose to nose, but it faded into a tired sigh as she set down the stew-pot.

"Daydreaming about Dalton are you?" he asked as they hung the pot over the cook-fire. And he immediately regretted it because she twitched quickly, nearly dropping the pot and sloshing water over both of them.

"Sorry," she said once they had rescued the cook fire. "I'm not sure I want to see him actually." She turned away from his questioning look before continuing, "I don't want anyone to look at me the way he does again. I'm afraid—it would be too much like Ferrol. I don't want anyone to see me that way. I'd rather be just another boy, just—" she broke off and stamped her foot softly.

"You'll never be just another boy," Neal said mildly, "especially not to him." A more comfortable silence fell as he dropped dried herbs and vegetable into the pot and Penelope retrieved her knife and began slicing up a strip of dried meat. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the sincere knight-to-squire speech he felt coming and willing away all biting sarcasm.

"It's not fair," she said, sounding uncharacteristically petulant. "How am I supposed to become my own self when the rest of the world sees something disgusting and untrustworthy. I'm not even pretty—my riding around in trousers and slicing up monsters does nothing to change that. I'm the only one who's not allowed to just be myself even if I work harder that all the others." She clenched and unclenched her fingers as soon as she had finished with the meat and walked towards their packs so that she could find something to busy her hands.

Neal grabbed her wrist to stop her. She darted away from his touch, then stood still, abandoning her rush towards their gear. "You're wrong on a number of counts. Everyone struggles to be a self that the rest of the world doesn't see—even crotchety young noblemen like me. Secondly"—he paused and used a finger to lift her chin—"you are very, very pretty. Any man who leads you to believe otherwise is lying. I know a number of men who agree that Dalton has excellent taste—admittedly all of them are married to some of the most formidable women in Tortall, but it's still a point in your favor." He noticed that she was quivering slightly and brought his hands back to his sides, away from her face. "And finally, I know a few women who would disagree with your claim that your situation is unique; difficult as your path may be, you aren't the only one to walk it."

"Oh," she said, lifting her foot as though she wanted to step backwards. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't, but sometimes I can't help thinking that they had it easier sometimes. I just--"

"You do realize, don't you, that the men around you—the intelligent ones, among which I count my humble self—can see you from more than one angle and understand that you are a human being with many dimensions? Some of us don't think that warrior and woman are incompatible identities."

Penelope shook her head thoughtfully. "How do you see me then?"

"You are my stubborn, cynical, undisciplined, insubordinate squire," he smiled at and she cocked her head to one side and shot him a cheeky grin in return. "And you will soon become a powerful, talented, chivalrous knight." They rolled their eyes at each other. "And," he added quietly, "you are an intelligent and courageous young woman who I would have been proud to call my daughter." He opened his arms and she looked him up and down hesitantly before stepping into them. "Even if you are a little silly sometimes," he muttered, hugging her.

"I should warn Lady Alanna," she whispered, wiping her eyes as they stepped apart, "you're going to be a merciless cynic while you're getting this out of your system."

"No need," he told her with mock gravity, "I manage one sentimental-but-no-strings-attached speech every three years of so for all of the important women in my life. Just ask your training master when you get the chance."

"I'll do that," she said. "Do you mind if I walk along the creek once I've finished with the horses? I want to think a little."

"Get thee gone," he said mockingly, shooing her away with his hands.

Alanna and Dalton appeared an hour later, looking dusty and travel worn.

"How is she?" Alanna asked as she dismounted.

"Quiet," Neal said, "probably angry too. She hasn't said much today, not even to tease me. My ego would be in danger of swelling to unmanageable proportions if I didn't feel responsible for all of this.

"Don't worry," Alanna informed him. "You're not. And I'll keep your ego in check." She bent over and sniffed tentatively at the cookpot. "I'll start with critiquing that mess when it finishes cooking."

"Where is she?" Dalton asked. He'd heard that she hadn't been seriously injured, but he felt a need to see for himself that she was all right. Besides, he hadn't seen her in over a month.

"Down by the creek," Neal muttered. He was busy prodding apprehensively at a chunk of meat in the stew.

"Why don't you go find her? Neal and I will see to the horses. I think we all have catching up to do."

It was unlike Alanna to have phrased an order as a suggestion, but Dalton didn't comment on this. He dismounted and loosened his horse's girth before hurrying off, aware that Alanna wanted to speak privately with Neal. He heard them muttering in low voices as he strode away, something about "Ferrol" and "funeral arrangements" and "irregular trial procedure".

Penelope sat perfectly still on a log a short distance from the creek, watching the rushing water and listening to its babbling. The place reminded her of the creek for which her home fief, Proudcreek, was named, but every time she let her mind drift into pleasant memories, she found herself thinking suddenly of her soaking the previous afternoon and imagining that she saw Kendal's body and blood in the water before her. There had been so much blood, all of it—her's and Kendal's—seeping and swirling in the cold, rapid-running water.

A warm hand slid underneath her braid and touched the back of her neck, startling her. Penelope jumped to her feet, instinctively turning and drawing her sword in one fluid motion.

"Sorry," she said quickly, recognizing Dalton. "It's been a rough few days; I've been a little jumpy all afternoon. I suppose…" she trailed off, glancing down as she suddenly realized she had drawn her sword for the first time—touched it for the first time—since killing Kendal with it. She lowered the blade quickly, nearly dropping it.

"I shouldn't have surprised you," Dalton said quietly. And then, in a louder but more hesitant voice, he asked, "Did Ferrol really try to—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Penelope said, gritting her teeth and speaking so quickly that she was surprised Dalton heard her. "It's over and it's not really any of your concern."

"Let's not talk then," Dalton said, automatically. He stared at her for a moment, trying to find his cheerful, practical sparing partner—the girl he'd befriended during their second year as pages because she fought fair and could still find something to laugh about when she lost—in the tired young woman before him. Her sword dangled from one hand and her breathing was slow. Finally, she lifted her head, and he glimpsed the friend he'd trained beside in the archery courts and the girl he'd kissed behind the stables.

Suddenly, he drew his own sword and said, lightly, "guard."

She raised her eyebrows and stepped backwards, surprised. Then she lifted her own sword point and stepped forwards again, her eyes intent and her face familiar.

It was good to fight someone who wasn't actually trying to kill her. They weren't using practice blades, so they moved carefully and precisely. Their movements were more mimicry than combat—her goal was to disarm, not to dismember. It was more like dancing than fighting, she thought as she blocked Dalton's sweep and turned her weapon towards his sword arm. He had to jump away to avoid being scratched.

"Who taught you that?" he asked, springing back to attack again.

"Wyldon." She blocked quickly and nearly managed to disarm him in his surprise.

"Lord Wyldon? But—"

"He's conservative, well-respected, and, according to Neal, going soft in his old age." Penelope smirked delicately; she might have looked like a court lady if she hadn't been sweaty, muddy, and lunging at Dalton with a sword.

Dalton parried and smirked back. "I was going to ask when actually. He and Alanna had, erm, words last night. It took about ten minutes of her yelling and him giving automatic icy replies before they realized that they were actually agreeing with each other."

"Maybe she's going soft in her old age too," Penelope said, trying to distract him as she prepared another attack. "It's probably all Neal's fault."

"You're not giving me nearly enough credit," he told her, sweeping his sword around so that she had to scoot out of the way.

"Perhaps not," she said, ducking quickly under his sword and kissing his chin. He stood very still and held his sword carefully away, stunned that she she'd passed so easily through his guard.

She sighed deeply—though it wasn't an entirely unhappy sigh—and lowered her head. Tentatively, expecting her to dart way the moment he touched her, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. Her shoulders shook for an instant and he almost stepped away, but then she dropped her forehead onto his shoulder like a child falling asleep.

"You're alright," he said—it was part question, part statement, part prediction. He dropped his sword so that he could wrap his other arm around her and pull her close. She murmured something against his chest. "What was that?" he asked quietly.

She tilted her head back and looked up at him, dropping her own sword so that it landed against his with a clatter. "You lost your weapon first," she told him lightly, "so I win."

"Deceitful wretch," he murmured affectionately, tugging gently at her braid.

She frowned suddenly. "Best be careful," she told him seriously, "Sir Kendal said something similar just before he impaled himself on my sword."

"Yes, but he was an old madman and he was lying. I'm a young madman telling the truth. Well, sort of, clever, beautiful warrior might be a slightly more accurate description."

" I suppose I ought not kill you for telling the truth," she said slowly, almost teasingly. And then she kissed him.

"I hate to interrupt this truly remarkable display in such a fashion," Neal said, contritely, "but pretending to cough always irritates my throat. I think it's dreadfully unjust of you to enjoy each other's company so much while my wife is hundreds of miles away and I'm going to recite Carlotta the Cantankerous if you don't leave off.

At this threat, Dalton stepped quickly away from Penelope, blushing scarlet and picking up both their swords.

"Don't worry," Penelope assured Dalton, "he only knows the first five verses." She took her sword and flourished it teasingly at Neal before sheathing it. "And besides," she added, shooting Neal a defiant look as she lifted Dalton's arm and draped it over her shoulders, "he knows the gods are punishing him for writing unseemly amounts of revolting love poetry during his page years."

Neal scowled at her and pointed towards the campsite. "Who told—"

"Master Mindelan," Penelope called back cheerfully. "Sometimes she gets distracted trying to settle one of Kefira's tantrums and she'll answer anything you ask her."

"And what, pray tell, did you ask her to elicit such information?"

"Oh, I just asked her what she thought would be the best way to blackmail you, theoretically, of course."

"Remind me to stop underestimating her capacity for mischief."

"Surely, sir, you do not expect me to give you such a reminder when your real trouble is that you overestimate her virtuousness."

"Funny, you should see it that way. I'm not exactly known for seeing the best in people."

"You're just very selective about who you choose to appreciate," said Dalton.

"I'm not making you regret your little speech earlier this afternoon, am I?" Penelope asked, glancing back at him over Dalton's shoulder.

"Not at all," said Neal, waving to Alanna as they approached the campsite. "I rather like being exasperated and I think you're living up to it nicely."

Penelope woke early the next morning and didn't bother to stay quiet as she crawled from the tent, checked the horses, and stirred the cookfire. As she had hoped, Alanna emerged a few minutes later, glaring about with bleary eyes.

"What's all this racket?"

"Oh," said Penelope, "terribly sorry about all that. I'm used to Neal sleeping through everything." She paused to yawn deeply and stretch. "Since you're awake though, we might as well get in some practice."

Alanna scowled and muttered something at the sky. Penelope thought she caught the words "Liam Ironarm, if she had red hair, I'd think she was one of yours." Then Alanna yawned and nodded at Penelope. "Very well, there's an old dueling move I want to show you—it's useful for disarming an opponent and wounding their sword arm." She grinned. "It's actually a bit more satisfying than impalement because they can hear you say 'I told you so' afterwards."

Penelope gave an awkward shrug.

"Besides, we can't have you making a career out of impaling all the idiots knights in Tortall's army. Some of the idiots have a knack for killing monsters, so I promised the king we'd only let you weed out the truly dangerous ones."

By breakfast time, Penelope had lost five times and was covered in bumps and scrapes. Dalton and Neal were still snoring loudly in the tent. Alanna served up bowls of porridge and Penelope was pleased to discover that the Lady Knight had perfected the art of porridge making during her years on the road. Her porridge was smooth with just the right amount of salt and sweetening, unlike the lumpy, bland messes that Penelope and Neal managed.

"The trick, which your knight master never bothered to learn because he hates porridge with an astonishing passion, is to add the oats slowly, " Alanna said, "We'll let them sleep in for once and then we'll make them eat cold porridge, which I can assure you he detests even more vehemently than hot porridge, and clean the dishes."

"So," Penelope asked as she served herself seconds—she rather liked porridge when it didn't have lumps and she had worked up something of an appetite dueling the King's Champion—"who was Liam Ironarm?"

"A Shang Dragon," Alanna said casually, "and the one who taught me—among many other useful things—that it is impossible to learn Shang fighting in bed." Penelope felt her face melt into a flabbergasted expression. "Ah," Alanna continued, "I suppose you're young enough not to have heard about that particular scandal."

Penelope shook her head slightly and held her breath as she waited for Alanna to continue. Much as she hated being gossiped about herself, she did rather enjoy hearing old gossip about legends like the Lioness and the Wildmage and even her training master. It was a good way to remind herself that she wasn't the only and that she might be leaving a legendary trail of gossip behind herself.

"Not that there was ever much to hear," Alanna continued in a tone that seemed both mocking and thoughtful. "Our romance didn't last long and people were always preferred debating whether or not I was sleeping with Jon."

Penelope choked on a mouthful of porridge and had to take a large swig of water once Alanna—looking highly entertained by her reaction—had pounded her on the back. "You mean the king?"

Alanna rolled her eyes. "Well, he wasn't the stable master's assistant. And you needn't act so shocked, I know certain people still make snide remarks about what we get up to during our private conferences. Personally, I think they're all still miffed that they didn't get a chance to gossip about our affair while it was actually taking place."

"Does that mean—but he was your—"

"Knight master, I know—not a situation I particularly recommend." Penelope had been going to say 'prince', but somehow she found this admission even more unnerving. "And he was my prince," Alanna continued, "and my best friend, and one of only four men who knew I was female."

"I suppose that narrowed the field considerably," Penelope acknowledged.

Alanna grimaced. "One of the men was my brother and another was a devoted family servant. So, you've had the opportunity to be a bit more selective." She paused and set down her bowl. "My disguise did protect me from a great deal of unpleasant gossip—I'm just beginning to appreciate how much from watching you. On the other hand, you've never had to deal with annoyingly flirtatious ladies demanding to dance with you." Alanna shuddered at the memory. "And you were spared the commentary of an extraordinarily sarcastic cat."

"Ah, but she has an extraordinarily sarcastic knight master to make up for it," Neal said, surprising them both as he stepped out of his tent.

"One's whose been neglecting his duties while he overslept," Penelope informed him. "Think of all the time you wasted." She stumbled over to a log and sat down, covering his face with one hand as he held out the other expecting a cup of tea. Penelope spoke in an even cheerier tone when she continued. "It's been such a productive morning. I've already learned about porridge, palace gossip, and dismemberment."

"You know," Alanna remarked, taking pity on Neal and passing him a mug, "I think she might convert me into a believer in early rising."

Neal would have muttered something about her going daft in her old age, but he hadn't yet sipped enough tea to construct a clever comment and he suspected such a remark would only lead to his being tipped over backwards with a swordpoint against his throat.

_The next episode—and I really mean it this time—will take place at the palace so we can see what Kel and Kefira and Daine and Tobe have been up to. I will try to have it up within a week, assuming real life doesn't interfere (a fairly big assumption since I managed to find an internship in publishing for the summer—textbooks, but still interesting.) Thanks once again to all my amazing reviewers; you're all very inspiring and motivating and you keep me writing both fan fiction and original stuff. I've tried to take your advice into consideration. For now I'm keeping Penelope and Dalton in this story for the sake of updating quickly and keeping the characters in context, but this fall I might start a separate story for them. _


	14. Parenting and Experimenting

_Sorry about the long delay in posting. Remember the characters and location belong to Tamora Pierce, I'm just borrowing them to wile away my leisure hours. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, your encouragement keeps the story trickling along (and sometimes makes it gush.) _

Kel watched in amazement as her daughter swept her tiny glaive in a near-perfect loop. It was hard to believe that she had first placed the child-sized weapon in Kefira's hands only a few weeks before. Kefira's progress had been startlingly rapid, as though she were merely remembering the motions instead of freshly learning them.

Finally, she noticed the small arms beginning to wobble as they swept the glaive through the air. "That's enough, Fira," she called, "come here."

Kefira dropped her glaive. Then, a moment later, she remembered that a knight never did such a thing and hastily picked it up. She carried it over to Kel and looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Why are you smiling so much, Ma?"

No matter how often Kefira spoke to her, she couldn't quite get used to being called mother. It was almost as odd as the jolt she got when any of the pages called her training master. A small part of her still wanted to turn and look for Wyldon or her own mother. Kel shook this silliness from her head and bent over to kiss her daughter's cheek.

"Your Da is coming home this afternoon," Kel told her, suddenly grinning so hard that her face ached. "And he is going to be very proud when he sees how much you have learned."

"At least you have a good excuse for your uncivilized emotional display," Yuki teased. "I'm rather convinced that something in the water around Queenscove has driven me into a few hysterical fits. I can't seem to mask my feelings the way I used to."

With a huge effort, Kel willed the smile off her face long enough to say, seriously, "the water around Queenscove, Yuki? No, I think it's something in the air."

They settled their daughters against the fence in order to begin their own glaive practice. As they worked, Kel was aware of the two girls' eyes upon them, drinking in every movement. Eventually, though Yuki's attacks grew fiercer and it took all of her concentration to hold them off.

So it was a surprise when she turned and saw Dom, looking wonderfully whole and healthy, holding the Nessaren and Kefira up to watch, one in each arm. She nearly dropped her own glaive, a movement that sent Kefira into a spate of reproachful giggling.

Dom walked slowly over and passed Nessaren into Yuki's arms. Then he turned towards Kel and glared pointedly at her glaive. Kel laughed and passed it to Yuki with an apologetic shrug, before stepping into Dom's arms and laying her cheek against Kefira's.

"Remind me to tell you about Meathead and his amazing squire," Dom whispered.

"Neal must have been furious," Kel murmured.

"So was I," Dom said, "when I helped her out of the water. He'd been trying to kill her like an animal and all they did was fuss over his body until I got there. She was already in shock from the cold, she might have drowned."

"I'm glad you were there to do what I would have done," Kel said, lifting their joined hands so that she could rest her forearm on the fence.

"I just hope she never finds herself needing that kind of help," Dom said, watching as Kefira finished her pattern dance and came hurrying towards them.

Kel smiled warmly at both of them and bent over the fence to take the small glaive so that Dom could lift Kefira into his arms. She shrugged off her father's praise and demanded to know when supper was.

"Her mother's modesty and her father's appetite," Dom remarked, "that's quite the combination. I shudder to think what traits she'll pick up from her cousins and godparents."

"You want another one, don't you?" Kel asked sadly, watching as Dom dropped a light kiss on Kefira's forehead and tucked the blankets tenderly around his sleeping daughter. "Or a son perhaps?"

Dom blew out the candle beside Kefira's cot and sighed softly. "Not if you don't," he answered, almost hiding the lie in his voice. He traced a hand along her shoulder and brushed his fingers against the chain on her neck. "Yes," he amended resignedly, "I would love for us to have another child, whose early life I could be more involved in, but it would place an unfair burden on you. I don't want you to feel trapped and overwhelmed."

Kel sighed and nodded, catching his hand and pulling it against her cheek. "I don't know that I could manage another and do all my duties—especially not with Tobe leaving in a few years, he's been more help than I would care to admit. And I still dream about traveling again, when she's ten or so—assuming she wants to be a page. (I don't think I could handle being her training master at any rate.) If I had another child that would mean waiting another ten years and—"

Dom cut her off by kissing her briefly. "Well, then," he said, in a cheerful tone that was only slightly forced, "we'll just have to do an excellent job with the one we have and hope she turns out well."

"You make her sound like a griddle-cake," Kel muttered. Dom chuckled and she could hear the sound deep in his chest as he held her too him. "It's possible I'll settle down and change my mind in a few years," she whispered.

"Good," he whispered back. "I can wait."

Kefira's squalling cries woke Dom the next morning. Kel was nowhere to be seen. He tumbled out of bed and lifted Kefira from her cot, discovering that her skin burned with fever and her face was covered with small red bumps. He cursed quietly and she stopped crying in order to repeat his words.

"I'll keep quiet if you will," he told her. "There's no need for your mother to know what kind of language we've been using."

Kefira's only response was a hiccupped half sob, a clear indication that she was absolutely miserable.

Dom sighed and wrapped a blanket around her. "Tobe?" he called. "Kel?" Neither of them answered, but he found notes from both of them in the sitting room. Tobe was in the stables—Dom was beginning to wonder when he would make it official and move into the barn—and Kel had been called to the infirmary, she wasn't sure why.

"Well, then," Dom told his daughter. "We'll just have to meet her there."

"You're certain that this isn't some kind of prank?" Kel asked the healer. "A clever trick to get out of lessons for a few days?"

"No, unfortunate as it is, the disease is highly contagious. I'm not at all surprised that so many of them came down at once. In fact, I expect more of them will be showing symptoms before the day is out."

"But aren't they a little old for chickenpox?" Kel asked. "I would expect someone Fira's age to—" a small superstitious corner of her mind decided not to finish that thought. She shrugged her shoulders and reminded herself that Kefira had very little contact with her pages. "Surely, most of the pages have had it by now."

The healer—Duke Baird's replacement when Neal was unavailable—shook her head. "Many noble families are able to shelter their children from exposure to the illness. They ignore the healers' advice that it's easier and less uncomfortable at a younger age." She sighed and glanced back towards the ward that was filled with Kel's charges. " You'll have to cancel their lessons for the next week or so." The healer saw Kel opening her mouth to protest and waved for her to remain silent. "I'm afraid you have twenty five—"

At that moment, Dom rushed through the doorway, holding Kefira in a bundle of blankets. "Her fever—" he began trying to pass her into the healer's arms. "I'm afraid…" he trailed off when the healer hushed him.

The healer glanced briefly at Kefira's face before stepping back and gesturing for Kel to take her child. "Pardon me, Lady Knight, twenty six sick children on your hands."

Kel stared at the healer as Kefira squirmed unhappily in her arms. The toddler seemed to have doubled in weight overnight, but her eyes were dull and her faced was scrunched miserably.

"Look on the bright side," Dom urged, once they had returned to their own quarters. "At least we only have to slather one of them with anti-itch cream."

Kel resisted a sudden unchivalrous to toss the pot of potion at Dom. "Thank the goddess for small mercies," she muttered.

"And larger ones," Dom added sincerely when he realized that Kefira had fallen asleep in his arms.

Kel, restless and unaccustomed to tending sick children, rushed to answer the door when someone knocked. Only as she actually turned the knob did it occur to her that someone was probably bearing even worse news from the infirmary.

Numair stood outside the door, looking bewildered and exhausted but eager to see her. Kel immediately guessed that his children were also sick.

So his next words were something of a shock. "Might I borrow Tobe for an experiment?" he asked.

Dom stepped to the doorway, still carrying Kefira. "I don't see why not," he said agreeably, waving at Numair with his free hand.

Kel's eyes narrowed. " The last time you asked me that he came back without any eyebrows."

Numair shuffled awkwardly. "That was largely a result of his own carelessness. Fourteen-year-old boys often get into such accidents on their own—they're all fascinated by fire."

" And the time before he was rendered mute for an entire week," Kel continued, ignoring Dom's sheepish shrug.

"That sounds good," Dom muttered. "The boy's developed some cheek lately. You can repeat that one anytime Numair."

"Actually, this experiment is to try to prevent Tobe from catching the pox," Numair said. "It's been approved by Daine," he added hastily.

"Her last experiment only left him with a set of horse ears and an odd head-twitching habit," Dom remembered.

Kel sighed. "Ask Tobe and let him decide for himself—he's old enough. I have to arrange some sort of schedule for the three remaining healthy pages and write all the parents of the sick ones." Kel turned and began marching back towards her desk. "I'll use you as a test subject in my next mage disemboweling experiment if you don't send him back in one fully functional piece."

"Good luck," Dom muttered as he shut the door.

"Easy enough for him to say," Numair muttered to himself, "he doesn't have to care for a feverish young wild mage." He hurried up the stairs and ran along the corridor to his family's quarters.

"Alright," he announced as he stepped through the door, "they've agreed, Tobe, now we just have to—"

"Numair," Daine interrupted in a quavering voice, "you don't suppose that dragons can catch chicken pox, do you?"

He glanced from Silverspot, who had pinned Sarralin down with one enormous paw to keep up her from scratching herself, to Daine, who had one arm wrapped around Rikash and was trying to unscrew the lid from a jar of anti-itch cream with her other hand, to Kitten, who was curled in a miserable heap, scratching listlessly at her dull, dry pink scales. "I sincerely hope they cannot," he said.

Tobe gave an impatient whinny and stepped into the center of the room, pawing repeatedly at the carpet and lifting his tail.

"Yes, Tobe, as I was saying, our unreasonably protective Lady Knight has agreed to my experiment. So, I want you to stay in horse form for the next week. That way we can find out whether or not a transformed wildmage is susceptible to a human virus."

Tobe snorted and swished his tail, continuing to paw at the carpet.

"He needs to visit the necess—er a pile of straw," Daine explained.

"Not inside," Numair ordered.

Tobe rolled his eyes and stamped a hind foot.

"You'll need to get him down the stairs then," Daine remarked. "Or perhaps we'd better just set up a stall for him in your laboratory. I'm sure I could get Stephan to send up some straw—and hay, he'll need to eat to."

Tobe stamped his foot again and snapped his teeth at Daine.

Daine glared back at her student. "Very well then, grain and apples."

Numair stared at the adorable chestnut pony threatening to take over his laboratory and frowned as he thought frantically.

"I suppose I'll have to shrink him," Numair said at last. "Much as I hate to take the risk—"

Tobe eyed Numair wildly and shied sideways.

"It takes away my control factor. I won't be able to tell if the shrinkage or the horseness has protected him from the pox."

"Have you ever tried to shrink a transformed wildmage before?"

"Magelet, you know perfectly well that I've never tried to shrink you. For that matter I've never shrunk an ordinary horse before, but theoretically it's quite possible and the idea does lead to several interesting…besides, I might as well perform two experiments at once, its hard enough to get Kel's permission for one."

"I doubt she would give you permission to shrink him," Daine pointed out, as she set Rikash down and began coating Sarralin in anti-itch cream.

"She only threatened to disembowel me if he didn't come back in one piece," Numair said reasonably, "she didn't say anything about the size of the piece."

Daine groaned in exasperation and Silverspot hissed sympathetically.

He frowned and pointed his hand at Tobe, muttering a quick incantation. There was a flash of light and Tobe shrunk to a height of three inches. Numair bent down and laid his hand flat on the floor. Tobe cantered up and leapt onto his palm.

Daine shot Numair a relieved grin. "He seems to be in perfect health," she said after bending over to inspect her student. "Just keep him away from all the barn cats until you've re-enlarged him." She reached over and ran a finger along Tobe's side. "And you," she added, "don't bite him until he does something to deserve it."

"I almost wish we could make this epidemic an annual event," Kel confessed to Dom a week later, "apart from Kefira being sick I mean."

Dom nodded in a dazed sort of way. "Either the fever made her unbelievably grumpy, or she's wound up with her godmother's temper." He glanced once at their daughter, who was now fever and blister free and sleeping peacefully, and shook his head, smiling. "But, I think I see what you mean. It's been relaxing enough while she sleeps. No training to plan, no one to supervise, no fights to break up, no punishments to assign."

"Whose job are you describing?" Kel asked, tossing off her shoes and sitting down beside Dom. "Yours or mine?"

"Both," he said cheerfully. "It's been a good visit. Though I might have liked to see more of Tobe."

"You saw plenty of him," Kel pointed out.

"I would have enjoyed a conversation that didn't involve snorting or stamping."

"You'll have to wait a few years for that," Kel told him, "he appears to be going through a surly phase." Dom scowled at her. "But the tail swishing seems to be restricted to his horse form," she assured him.

Dom nodded. "At least Numair's little experiment seems to have been successful, although he was a bit distracted." He clamped his teeth shut to keep from mentioning a few details of the experiment to Kel, deciding that such delicate information was best left to Daine's diplomatic skills.

"Well, their dragon was mess, and then apparently she ate several jars of anti-itch potion, which didn't agree with her in her weakened state." Kel sighed contentedly and nestled her head against Dom's shoulder. "That's one thing you will never talk me into, raising a baby dragon. Not while I have so many human children to worry about."

"No dragons," Dom agreed. "And no more griffins, either, I saw that little monster."

"I don't know," said Kel, "he was awfully cute while he was sleeping."

_Thanks for reading and please review. The next episode will chronicle the further escapades of Neal, Penelope, Alanna, and Dalton and I hope to have it posted in a few weeks. _


	15. Another Encounter

_My profuse and profound apologies for the long gap between updates. I don't have any excuses aside from the fact that I forget what good fun this is. As always, we're playing in Tamora Pierce's wonderful dollhouse, I just brought a few toys of my own. _

_This episode follows Penelope and Dalton and takes place a week or so after the chickenpox episode. _

"Duck!" Penelope shouted. She grabbed Dalton's elbow before he could respond and yanked him from his horse just as an arrow whizzed through the space where his head had been.

Dalton dropped a knife from his sleeve—a trick he'd learned from George—and rolled between his horse's legs before standing to throw it at their attacker, a stout, bearded man in brown clothing. This gave Penelope time to string her own bow and fire at another of the bandits. She missed, cursed, and fired again—successfully this time—while Dalton turned to see Alanna and Neal—who'd just been mounting up when the attack came—fighting.

"Just bandits," Alanna called back to him. "Finish your own fun before you steal from an old lady."

He nodded and accepted the bow that Penelope passed him. Within minutes, they'd shot down or knifed all eight of their attackers. The last one grinned strangely at the sky as he crumpled to the ground.

Penelope cut short her sigh of relief and cursed faintly as a dark shadow passed overhead.

Looking up, Dalton saw an enormous—it was roughly the size of a cottage—black bird diving at them, claws outstretched. It looked decidedly unfriendly.

"A feathered dragon," Alanna muttered as they dropped, plastering themselves against the ground. "And I was just beginning to think I was old enough to say I'd seen everything."

"I think it's an experience I would prefer to skip or share with Daine," Neal told her.

"It doesn't seem to be in a particularly diplomatic mood. I'm not sure even she could talk the nice crow out of dismembering us."

"Possibly not," Penelope said. "But she could probably shoot it out of the air pretty fast."

"At least that way we could negotiate eye to eye," Neal muttered and then rolled away, barely dodging the bird's talons as it made a low pass.

Dalton frowned, lifting his head slightly to examine the bird. His classes with Lindhall Reed came surging through his mind in scraps and pieces. "It's not a crow," he told the others. "It's a sparrow."

Somehow, none of them found this news particularly comforting. Penelope swallowed. Alanna ground her teeth together. And Neal eyed the thing apprehensively, remembering Kel's sparrows and their prowess as warrior birds.

The giant sparrow swooped at their horses, ignoring the flailing hooves and tearing at their saddles with enormous claws. There was a nasty slashing and droplets of blood flew to the ground, before the animals let out shrill whinnies and—disregarding their training as warhorses—dashed into the woods.

"Sensible creatures," Neal muttered.

The sparrow's wings were too wide for it to negotiate the gaps between trees. It shrieked in frustration when it realized it couldn't follow the horses and its eyes glowed an alarming shade of red.

Alanna rolled onto her knees and fired, managing to knock loose one of its enormous tail feathers. The bird's only response was to dive directly at them. Penelope glanced around in a panic; a nearby fallen log provided the mere suggestion of shelter, otherwise, they were in the open.

"Swords up!" Alanna ordered as all four leapt to stand back-to-back. The air around them glowed faintly purple and the bird shrieked again. For a moment, Penelope thought they were safe. Then the giant sparrow plunged through Alanna's magical barrier.

She worried for Dalton when she heard the beak crunch horribly behind her. Then, before she had paused to plan her attack, she swung wildly, severing one of its feet. The detached talons curled reflexively when they hit the ground and the bird squalled horribly as it winged away.

Penelope tore her eyes away from the talons when they stopped moving to glance back at the others. The creature had torn a huge gash out of Neal's shoulder and it was bleeding freely.

"You'll want to clean that out well," Alanna told him. "I hate to think who else its been eviscerating with that beak."

"But I was planning to develop a deadly infection so I wouldn't have to help you write an official report of our—Mithros! Drop!" Neal's whine turned to a shout as the monster turned and made another dive at them.

"No," Alanna whispered. "Take out the wings!"

They dropped to the ground again, jumping onto their knees to slash at the wing feathers as it swept overhead. Penelope and Alanna couldn't quite reach, but Neal and Dalton—both much taller—managed to detach the opposite wing. The bird collapsed on all of them and, with its remaining talon, it clawed a gash in Penelope's leg before she could crawl out from underneath it.

Penelope struck at the remaining wing as she scrambled to her feet. Neal swiped vindictively at the beak. While the bird was thus distracted, Dalton and Alanna hacked at its neck, finally managing to decapitate it.

"It's dead?" Dalton muttered, but the words were somehow a question despite the clearly severed head.

"Dead and finished," Neal confirmed, "along with our morning warm-up."

Alanna was silent, however, glaring suspiciously at the faded red eyes. "I've been expecting these things to get harder now that I'm a grandmother, but that was almost too easy," she murmured and moved to examine the wound on Neal's arm.

Penelope was inclined to disagree with this assessment, but she saved her breath for walking after their horses; her legs were oddly shaky.

"Hold up," Neal called after she had gone about ten paces. "You're hurt."

"Just a scratch," she answered automatically. Then she glanced down at and saw that her left leg was cut from hip to knee and bleeding sluggishly. "Admittedly a rather large one."

"What she means," Alanna informed them, "is that she's still too surprised to have figured out how much it hurts and one of you ought to catch her before she topples over." Neither Dalton nor Neal had needed this translation; Neal rolled her eyes and Dalton had already wrapped an arm around Penelope's waist, knowing she was likely to protest if he actually carried her. Dalton guided Penelope to the fallen log where they'd made their camp the previous night. Alanna finished Neal's arm with a stunning purple blaze and sent Neal and Dalton to track down the horses while she tackled Penelope's leg.

By the time they returned, Penelope was feeling well enough to hobble along behind Alanna as she examined the bird's body, which was now emitting a horrific stench.

"What's that smell?" Neal asked.

"Rapidly rotting flesh," Penelope guessed, walking over to her pack to pull on fresh trousers. "The thing seems to be decaying already. Or maybe one of us stepped in dogs' droppings."

"No." Dalton sniffed cautiously. "It's a bit more like sour milk or rotten eggs."

"What you smell, Queenscove," Alanna informed him as she plucked one of the wing feathers, "is trouble." She ran her fingers thoughtfully along the feather, which was roughly the size of a sword. "Trouble enough to interrupt Jon," she added, pulling a small mirror from her belt pouch.

Penelope had to flinch to keep from smirking when the Lady Knight used the king's nickname. It reminded her of the morning Alanna had admitted to her old affair. _Stop, _she told herself firmly, _you're just giddy from blood loss. Don't laugh, Take a deep breath. _This, of course, was a terrible mistake as the dead thing's smell threatened to overpower her senses.

Alanna turned her head and raised an eyebrow. "Of course, the unwashed dead bandits aren't improving the odor. You two"—she gestured at Penelope and Dalton—"can search their clothing and bury them while I decide what to do next." She winked cheerfully at Penelope before turning back to her mage mirror.

"You're sure it was impervious to magic?" Jonathon asked, scowling at Alanna as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"My power didn't effect it," Alanna confirmed, "though it didn't seem to have any of its own. But I suspect the things still loaded with magic; it's decaying quite rapidly. I can guard the body as long as you want and try to investigate things, but there are only four of us here and I don't have Numair's expertise."

Jon nodded thoughtfully and called Gary to bring him the latest map. "I do want it investigated. I'm concerned it might have to do with our little Immortal uprising."

"So send Numair."

Jon shook his head. "The poor man's exhausted," he told her, and explained the chickenpox epidemic.

"Poor Keladry," Alanna muttered sympathetically.

Jonathon snorted. "She and Dom made a small fortune betting that Numair couldn't find a way to keep Kitten from scratching herself. That woman knows how to sort the possible from the impossible."

"Speaking of which," Gary muttered in the background. "I'm afraid we're going to have to send in the nearest available military support."

Jonathon frowned, glanced down at the map, and winced sharply.

Alanna's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean afraid…"

"Wyldon," Jon whispered, "his squadron is the only one within miles, Alanna, and I trust you two can manage to not kill each other for a few days."

"Oh, I'm not planning to kill anyone—except maybe the mage who created this monster," Alanna assured him. "I'm getting patient in my old age and in a few years I'm going to enjoy being senile enough to publicly share any thought that happens to float into my head."

Jon smiled at her. "At least my old age won't be boring then. Just finish the job and get home. I'll send Daine or Numair as soon as they've slept long enough to see straight."

"We found an ordinary feather and an amulet in the leader's belt pouch," Dalton reported. "Otherwise, nothing."

Alanna took the amulet and looked it over, thinking. The bird's body already looked like it could collapse any moment.

"We need to check the body for an amulet that matches this one—only larger hopefully," Alanna told Neal and the squires. They all circled it reluctantly, trying to breath as shallowly as possible while they examined the wings and the underside.

"We're not going to find it down here," Dalton muttered finally and he tried climbing one of the wings. A bone snapped under his foot and he tumbled to the ground.

Neal stopped him before he could try again. "You're too heavy. We need—"

Penelope stepped forward before he could finish. Neal grabbed her before she could start climbing and hoisted her up so that she could crawl awkwardly onto the bird's back. There, the smell was so awful she could barely breathe. She ran her fingers rapidly through the feathers, resisting the impulse to jerk her hands away from the stiff dead flesh beneath them. Finally, her fingers curled around the metal amulet. She yanked it free and leapt away, trusting Dalton and Neal to catch her.

"I'm going to be sick now," she announced, almost cheerfully, as soon as she had passed it to Alanna. And she was, just inches away from the Lady Knight's feet.

Neal blinked in surprise. A few months ago Penelope would have gone to great lengths to hide such a display of weakness. Now, either she found the dead body extraordinarily repulsive, or—Neal hoped—she finally felt she'd proven herself enough to admit she was only human.

Wisely, Dalton refrained from asking if she was all right. He merely passed her a water skin once she'd finished heaving.

Indeed, they were all sick a number of times before Lord Wyldon's arrival. The stench became truly unbearable in the afternoon's heat and it left them all cross and nauseas—particularly Lady Alanna. Finally, Neal persuaded the Lady Knight to slip off for a bath in the creek—he secretly hoped that it would cool her legendary temper—while he established a campsite a reasonable distance from the corpse and Penelope and Dalton practiced their sword work.

Penelope stumbled and was rather shocked to find herself flat on her back with Dalton's sword point an inch from her throat. He hadn't bested her in weeks. Dalton smiled and pulled the blade away with a shaking hand.

"About time," Dalton muttered.

"You were holding back; you could have beat me yesterday," Penelope accused, grabbing his free hand and swinging herself upright.

"No, I was waiting for you to step on uneven ground. There's a little luck involved you know." Dalton bent forward and kissed her neck lightly.

Lord Wyldon coughed loudly and they leapt apart, noticing his arrival for the first time and dropping into quick bows.

"Good afternoon," Wyldon said stiffly, dismounting and handing his reins to Dalton. "If you would be so kind as to inform the Lady Knight of my arrival, Squire." Dalton nodded and slipped away, leaving Penelope standing awkwardly before Wyldon.

Wyldon appraised her silently for a moment before drawing his own sword. "If you would oblige me, Proudcreek," he said, as though he were asking her to dance in a crowded ballroom rather than to duel a short distance from a decaying carcass. Penelope raised her eyebrows and slipped into a fighting stance. They watched each other carefully, working through a series of slow exaggerated movements.

"I knew the man you killed quite well." Wyldon's remark broke the silence abruptly and Penelope nearly dropped her guard. "Well enough," he continued, "to know that he'd been drinking excessively these last few years and ignoring his friends' advice to stop. You didn't kill him so much as end him, but you would have done well to avoid him altogether if you could."

"You weren't there," Penelope told him, too busy defending to notice the boldness of her words. "Some encounters cannot be avoided."

They were both absolutely silent for another minute, their swords meeting each other with sharp clangs as they increased their pace. "I don't know you as well as I ought to," Wyldon added, "but, as nimble as you seem, I don't think you would make such a decision lightly. If you decided to take a life—or become a knight—it was because you had no better alternative."

"That's enough," Alanna bellowed and they both turned to face her, breathing heavily and lowering their swords. "You can't just come in and challenge—" she began furiously, pointing at Wyldon.

"Indeed," Wyldon interrupted harshly, "I was about to call a halt myself." He turned to address Penelope. "You're favoring your left side now that you're tired."

"I was clawed in a moment of carelessness during this morning's fight, sir" Penelope explained. "It's nearly healed." She carefully backed away from Lord Wyldon and Lady Alanna as she spoke and bowed quickly, dismissing herself.

"Good afternoon," Alanna muttered, returned Wyldon's icy nod with a glare. "If you've finished challenging exhausted squires perhaps you would like to come and inspect the bird so we can form our plans for tracking the mage who made it."

"It was a discussion rather than a duel, Lady Knight," Wyldon informed her. "Proudcreek and I are alike in that we both speak more openly when our hands are occupied. I imagine that you and I have that in common as well."

"Indeed," Alanna said, gesturing for him to follow her towards the dead bird, "perhaps you and I should arrange for a friendly duel when this is over. I imagine we have a great deal to discuss."

Breakfast the next morning, in addition to being porridge—and therefore the grimmest meal of the day—was also the longest meal of Neal's life. He was seated between Alanna and Wyldon and all twenty knights in Wyldon's squadron were watching them with unconcealed fascination, as though they expected to witness a beheading soon. Penelope and Dalton had contrived to seat themselves at the opposite end of the camp so Neal couldn't use them as buffers. And even though they were seated several yards from the dead bird, the smell had them all on edge. Both Alanna and Wyldon gripped their spoons as though they were weapons.

Astonishingly, the conversation never strayed from the task at hand. They both agreed to track the bandits' trail back to the source of the magic and they'd caught the deranged young mage responsible by noon. Alanna disabled the mage easily, but tackling the enormous spiders he'd raised behind his tent took the rest of the afternoon.

Once, Neal thought he saw Wyldon and Alanna fighting side by side. It almost looked as though Wyldon were laughing at something she'd said. Neal shuddered at the thought. Then both of them lunged for the same spider leg at the same time. Sparks and curses flew when their swords collided. Neal turned back to the spider bite he was patching up, reassured that all was well in the world.

_It's good to be back. I'll try to have an episode chronicling Kel's further (mis)adventures as training master up in early February. Reviews are always appreciated. _


	16. Probation and Education

_Hello again and thanks to everyone who reviewed the last episode. This one takes place a few weeks later, back at the palace with Kel. As always, cast and location belong to Tamora Pierce, I'm just tinkering with them._

"It was pure good luck that we didn't slice off each other's heads," Wyldon muttered, sipping at his wine. " Even without an impossible co-commander, it would still have been a very long afternoon. Actual spiders are trickier than Spidren and the stench drove those of us who weren't already there to the edge of madness."

Kel had difficulty picturing a situation that would drive both Wyldon and Alanna to the edge of madness, though she supposed their close proximity to one another might have done the trick. And she had never imagined that Wyldon would invite her to dine with him, and yet, they had finished eating an hour ago and were still talking (which suggested that things she couldn't imagine weren't just possible; they were probable).

"And how was she?" Kel asked, now that Wyldon had described his strange campaign.

Wyldon knew exactly whom she meant. "Well enough," he told her. "I doubt she'll ever have the muscle to manage a battle axe properly, but she's clever enough with a sword to make up for it. I want to disapprove of her hardheadedness, but I can't help admiring it."

"She can be stubborn to the point of folly," Kel admitted. "I'm sure that reminds me of someone—or several someones, but I can't recall names at the moment."

Wyldon chuckled softly and it was then that inspiration struck Kel. She swallowed back the hysteria that bubbled within her, telling herself she might as well go mad with the rest of the world. And she would have to ask now. They'd both drunk a few glasses of wine and there would never be a better moment.

"Might I ask a favor, sir?"

Wyldon raised his eyebrows at her and sipped again from his wine. "Very well, Mindelan."

"As you know, I've been looking for knight-masters for the last batch of squires," Kel told him. "I've found matches for most, but there's one I'm having difficulty placing." She saw Wyldon leaning away as she spoke and pressed on quickly. "And I was wondering if you would—"

"Absolutely not."

"But sir, your last few squires have—"

"I imagine there are certain factors which make this particular squire difficult to place."

Kel nodded glumly.

"I imagine the most significant of these is the fact that this particular squire is female."

Kel winced but continued undaunted. "But she's quite strong and very good with dogs. I know you could use a squire and Selina happens to be the only one left."

"But I don't know the first thing about raising a girl squire—"

"They're not all that different from boys," Kel cut in. Surely you can manage any task that Queenscove can."

Wyldon stiffened slightly at that and Kel began to hope. " You of all people should know that I have a poor record," he said. " I barely even know my own daughters and…."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that sort of thing," Kel told him matter-of-factly. "She's already begun her monthlies." Wyldon flushed scarlet and Kel continued eagerly, scenting victory. "I've discussed—"

"Enough," Wyldon coughed. "I can see I'm getting too old for this kind of stubbornness. I'll take her on one condition."

Kel nodded. "What's that?"

Wyldon swallowed, regaining mastery of the situation. "Probation. One month."

Kel blinked. "Absolutely not."

"Let me explain. Assuming young Selina is willing to consider me as her knight master—which would suggest either extraordinary courage or pitifully dull wits—we will remain at or near the palace for one month. At the end of that time, we will assess each other and you will assess both of us." Wyldon sighed. "If any of the three of us finds fault in the situation, it will end."

"So," Kel said slowly, "you're putting Selina on probation and you're putting yourself on probation."

Wyldon nodded. "I don't want to waste three years of my life ruining her future."

"But that's unheard of."

"So was putting pages on probation until I decided to try it." The ghost of a smile flickered across Wyldon's face. "As I recall, that might have had disastrous results but it worked out fairly well." He gestured towards Kel. "It's up to you though. You're training master now."

"Actually," Kel said after a moment's thought. "I rather like the idea. It leaves half the decision up to Selina. My only request is that you explain the arrangement to herself."

"Why?"

"Because I would have wanted things explained to me in person," Kel told him, rising from her chair. "You can do it tonight."

"It's late, Mindelan, she's probably asleep by now."

"I hope not," Kel muttered, leading Wyldon in the direction of her own chambers. "And, in any case, I doubt she'll sleep well until she finds a knight master."

"You're going the wrong way, Mindelan, the pages wing is back—"

Kel turned and smiled at Wyldon. "Selina has been watching Kefira this evening."

"But why—"

"She's reliable and trustworthy," Kel told him.

"Tenderness with children doesn't necessarily lead to prowess on the battle—" Wyldon silenced himself as Kel pushed her door open.

"Fira's asleep on her cot," Selina whispered, coming to the door.

Wyldon took a moment to size her up. She was fourteen or so, and two inches shorter than Kel, but quite sturdy, leanly muscled with long legs, wide hips, and broad shoulders. Her dark hair was tied off in a practical knot at the base of her neck. She blinked at him with soft brown eyes before turning her gaze politely to the floor.

Wyldon nodded quickly at Kel. "Lady Selina," he said softly, watching from the corner of his eye as Kel tiptoed away to kiss her child, "might I have a word."

"Well?" Kel asked after Wyldon had departed.

"He wants to put me on probation," Selina sounded puzzled, but she clenched her jaws together as she spoke and her eyes shone brightly.

"And you object?" Kel asked.

"He gave me until tomorrow morning to decide," Selina said. "But I don't really have a choice do I? No one else is going to look for a squire this year." Selina squared her shoulders. "Besides, if I can make it under Wyldon, I'll know I could have made it under anyone and I won't start a scandal like Penelope's."

"Good," said Kel, "it sounds like you've already made up your mind. I'd get to his rooms early tomorrow morning. Lord Wyldon appreciates punctuality."

Selina nodded and slipped out the door, leaving Kel too worried to sleep. Instead, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat down to write a letter to Neal.

_I can't decide, _she began, _if I've been brilliant and forgiving or unimaginable stupid. You will undoubtedly want to have me confined for my own safety after reading this…_

"Come in," Wyldon called, not bothering to get up when Selina—well, presumably Selina as he couldn't think of anyone else who would arrive so early—knocked.

Selina slipped through the door and was just tucking her hands behind her back when Wyldon's enormous wolfhound leapt at her, planting his forepaws against her chest and licking her chin.

Selina twitched her lips in a smile but didn't flinch. "Good morning to you," she said, grasping the dog's paws firmly and lowering him to the floor, "sir—"

"Greyson," Wyldon filled in as he realized she was addressing the dog. "He's usually more reserved with strangers." In actuality, Greyson usually greeted strangers with a warning bark; Wyldon couldn't account for his sudden friendliness.

"He's a real beauty," Selina remarked, scratching Greyson behind the ears.

"He knows it too," Wyldon muttered absently, stowing away his files and standing to survey Selina once more. "What sort of gear do you have?"

Her reply was so soft that he couldn't make it out over Greyson's excited howling.

"Speak up," he ordered. "I don't tolerate mumbling."

"Sorry," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. "Not much, I'm afraid, just the standard practice equipment for pages." She glanced down at the floor and rubbed Greyson's ears.

"Kindly meet my eyes, Lady Selina, when you address me."

She lifted her face and for a mortifying moment Wyldon thought she was about to cry. But she only tilted her chin to one side and repeated her assessment of her equipment before settling her gaze on his desk.

"Look up," he demanded. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Only a little," she answered, settling her palm over Greyson's head. The dog whined sympathetically.

"That's the first time anyone has responded honestly," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Gear, I can supply easily. Courage is harder to obtain."

"That's not the problem," she burst out, adding "sir" at the last possible moment.

"Then what makes you so cursed quiet?" he asked.

"Practice. I learned long ago that if I don't attract too much attention, people stop asking questions and let me get along with whatever I'm trying to do. I only assert myself when absolutely necessary."

"Oh," Wyldon said. "I see." Even though all he could see was that it was going to be a long month for both of them. "We'll start by finding you some weapons—and a horse—and then you can show me how well you use them." He had to work hard to keep from returning her tiny smile—it was as though he'd suggested a new gown to one of his own daughters. "And bring him along," he added, gesturing to Greyson. "He could use the exercise."

Kel watched the two of them carefully for days, often finding herself distracted from the pages' morning training when she glanced across the courtyard and spotted Wyldon and Selina together, but she wasn't certain whether or not they were pleased with each other. She could, however, guess that Greyson loved the arrangement; he darted happily between Wyldon and Selina, pleased to have an extra pair of hands to scratch his ears and rub his belly.

A few careful inquiries to Daine confirmed this suspicion. "I'd call it a brilliant strategy if I thought it were intentional," the Wildmage told Kel when she came to retrieve Kefira from an afternoon with Sarralyn, "but she's taken to Greyson and he's taken to her of his own accord." Daine grinned. "And he's a very particular dog; even Wyldon knows that."

"If he's that particular," Numair muttered from behind a thick stack of books, "why doesn't he live with you. Not that I'm inviting him, of course, he's quite large and I imagine he drools quite a bit…"

"He suits Wyldon," Daine explained. "They're both stubbornly independent and fiercely loyal—oh dear, put the ink down, Sarra."

Sarra did put the purple ink down, after a fashion, by setting the jar upside-down atop Kitten's head. Kitten trilled triumphantly and caught it up with her tail before flinging it at Rikash, the initial target. Silver charged in to pull the jar away from Rikash's cot and wound up getting all four paws coated in ink so that she left a trail of paw prints behind as she chased down Sarralyn and Kitten. Numair cursed and cast a spell to freeze all of them; Rikash burst into tears; Daine growled and ran for soap and rags; Kefira commented that it all looked like fun and Kel muttered her goodbyes and fled before her daughter could get any ideas.

Despite Daine's reassurances (and Tobe's added reassurances that Wyldon had found Selina a solid reliable horse), Kel worried through the next week. Even Dom's surprise arrival failed to ease her concern. Eventually, he cornered her, grabbed her chin to pull her face away from staring at the stables Wyldon and Selina had disappeared into, and asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing." Kel sighed and Dom snorted.

"And by 'nothing' you mean that you feel terribly guilty about…"

"placing Selina with Wyldon. I'm afraid I talked both of them into something we'll all regret."

"Will miracles never cease?" Dom muttered, turning his gaze towards Wyldon and Selina as they emerged from the stables, leading their horses. They were looking towards each other and gesturing rapidly with their free hands, but Kel and Dom were too far away to tell if they were arguing or enthusiastic. "And this was your idea?" he asked Kel.

"It just came to me all of a sudden," Kel confessed. "And I thought I would at least try asking. I should have thought it through more though, but it seemed right at the time."

"Well, I'm fairly certain it's going to work," Dom said, wrapping an arm about Kel's shoulders as they walked into dinner. "In fact if Neal were here, I'd make a small fortune wagering against him."

"I wish I had your confidence," Kel said, "but you don't know Selina and Wyldon."

Dom didn't answer for a time, then he lifted his hand to her hair so he could tuck a loose piece behind her ear. "I do know you though," he told her, "and I know that some small part of you trusted this to work or you would never have suggested it. You've got good instincts, Kel, have a little faith in them. And in Selina, she's strong. And in Wyldon, he's proven himself capable of astonishing flexibility."

Kel nodded, smiling. "And the instinct that tells me we'd better wake Kefira up now if we want her to sleep through the night?"

Dom chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. "I guess you ought to trust that one too."

Kel spotted Selina limping across the women's baths the day before her month with Wyldon was due to end. She was freckled with healing cuts and fading bruises but she had a very smug smile on her face, as though she had finally accomplished a difficult task.

"What did you do?" Kel asked, torn between pride and worry.

Selina shrugged innocently. "Ask my knight master."

Wyldon was limping too when Kel found him in the stables and he had a dark mottled bruise across his left knuckles.

"What did—"

"She disarmed me," Wyldon snapped in a whisper before Kel could finish asking. He glanced around furtively to be sure they hadn't been overheard. "And she ought to have been able to manage it yesterday. I don't know what took her so long."

Kel blinked at him. "Sir, may I ask if you've come to a decision regarding—"

Wyldon nodded, "With your permission, Lady Knight, I'd like to continue our little experiment for another three years and seven months. It's been highly…educational for both of us."

"And she feels the same way?"

"Impossible as it may seem, I can see eye-to-eye with a rational, intelligent fourteen-year-old-girl on a number of points."

Kel raised her eyebrows.

"Not the least of which is that we both detest cauliflower," Wyldon informed her. He shrugged before continuing. "Honestly, I believe she's going to turn out well. We suit each other's tempers nicely; she keeps me from becoming too bitter and I keep her from staying too quiet. And I feel that I owe her—and you—some support. Besides, Greyson likes her, and he's an excellent judge of swordsmanship, not to mention character."

"Very well." Kel gave a deep sigh of relief. "Permission granted," she added, but Wyldon had already rushed off to order his squire to pack.

_Thanks for reading. I hope to have another episode up by mid February, chronicling a certain King Champion's response to Wyldon's decision. In the meantime, reviews are always welcome. _


	17. Reputation

_Here goes…we're back to Penelope and company for this episode, which takes place a few weeks after the last. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. These are Tamora Pierce's characters; I'm merely manipulating them for entertainment purposes. _

For perhaps the third time in her life, Alanna read a piece of news so shocking she had to sit down as she read it. She glared at the letter, and reread it, hoping the dim light of the tavern could be blamed for a mistaken impression. It couldn't; there was proof, in Keladry's own hand that she had taken complete leave of her senses.

"Keladry's gone mad," Alanna muttered and was rewarded by a large crack as two foreheads collided behind her.

Neal had bent to see what the fuss was about just as Penelope had leaned in to read it for herself. Knight and squire glared at each other, both grabbing for the parchment. Alanna scowled at them and passed it to Dalton who read the crucial sentence aloud.

"Lord Wyldon has agreed to accept Lady Selena as his squire."

Neal shrugged. "I figured he would get around to it. She usually gets what she plans on. She's definitely mad though."

"I wonder if her brains weren't scrambled the last time she fell from her horse," Penelope put in.

"She's been crazy for sixteen years," Neal muttered. "I never thought she'd be crazy enough to keep Wyldon and Selena together through a month of probation but I doubt a single fall made matters much worse."

"Oh, I was referring to Selena. The girl's so practical she can't think sensibly." Dalton and Neal raised their eyebrows at this articulate gem and Penelope frowned as she realized what she'd said. Since none of them were watching, they had no warning when Alanna's scowl turned into a snarl.

"She'd written you before about this," Alanna accused. "You already knew!"

"Duck and cover!" Dalton muttered, tugging Penelope out from between the two knights and clapping a hand over her mouth to keep her from defending her own knightmaster. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her from the inn.

"I wish her luck," Penelope said once they had settled themselves in the loft with their legs just touching and their feet dangling over the edge. "But I think she's going to need something more."

Dalton nodded. "So will Sir Nealan."

Penelope laughed softly. "He's had lots of practicing dodging. He'll be fine," she said, mostly believing it. "It's a good thing crazy people tend to be lucky though--"

"Yourself included," Dalton reminded her, kissing her cheek lightly.

Penelope raised her eyebrows and continued, "otherwise we'd spend too much time worrying about them to get anything useful done."

"So," Dalton said, setting a hand on her shoulder, "you're allowed to worry about Selena, who ought to be fairly safe if rather miserable with Wyldon, but we're not supposed to worry about you when you fight knights twice your size."

"That's correct," Penelope said, glaring icily. But her eyes melted quickly and she set her head against Dalton's chest. "Just think of all the time you could save," she mumbled.

He just sighed and wrapped his other arm around her shoulder.

Alanna's eyes narrowed further. " And what was that about probation?"

"Kel agreed to keeping both Wyldon and Selena on probation for a month before giving the arrangement her final approval," Neal babbled. "I'm sure that she meant to tell you—or maybe she didn't because she knows what your temper is—"

"You've known for weeks," Alanna accused when she had finished skimming the letter for the third time and found no mention of probation. "She wrote you separately and you didn't tell me."

Neal swallowed audibly and laced his fingers together to keep from raising his hands in surrender, reminding himself that it was time he stopped dodging her temper. "No," he muttered, "I didn't." When Alanna raised her eyebrows but made no move to eviscerate him he continued more loudly. "Kel wrote to me in confidence, describing a situation that wasn't yet formally acknowledged. She wasn't certain what the outcome would be and she didn't want it spread around."

"I wouldn't—"

In a moment of great daring, Neal interrupted her protest. " Besides I got the letter just before—"

"Never mind," Alanna said quickly. "Not only have you developed a spine, Lady Keladry appears to have developed a treacherous cunning streak." Alanna sighed happily. "Parenthood does that I suppose. What I like best, though, is the fact that Wyldon's gone soft enough to let himself be bullied into things." She grinned wolfishly. "How long do you think it will be before his brain rots enough for someone to beat him at jousting?"

"Not long, Lady Knight." Neal smiled back tentatively. "Not long at all." It was a safe guess, unlikely to be proven wrong, as almost no one was willing to challenge Wyldon anymore.

Penelope didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep until the sound of a dozen men and horses entering the stable woke her. She started, reaching for her knife, and then calmed when she recognized Dalton's soft chuckle.

"It's just Lord Raoul and a few of his men," Dalton whispered. "They're riding with us tomorrow to help tackle that centaur gang beside Fort Promise, were Raoul's taking over command. But it might be better if they didn't find us like this."

Penelope nodded sleepily. They were both fully dressed, but disheveled from their nap and she'd left a tiny patch of drool on Dalton's chest. She slid out of his arms and crept to the far end of the loft. From there, she lowered herself into Magewhisper's stall and pretended to groom Neal's mare. Dalton meanwhile slipped through a loose patch in the stable roof and dropped smoothly to the ground.

Raoul greeted them with a tired smile. "She's here already then?" he asked.

"She is," Dalton told him, "but you might not want to—"

"She's heard about Wyldon then?"

Penelope nodded. "Only just."

Raoul shrugged and glanced towards the inn. "Looks pretty quiet for the moment. I'm willing to risk slipping in for some—"

"What took you so long, Raoul? Dinner's getting cold," Alanna called from the doorway, a frighteningly jovial expression on her face. "And where have you two been?" she asked, gesturing at Penelope and Dalton.

All three blinked innocently and obeyed her summons without answering her questions.

Alanna enjoyed watching Neal, Dalton, and Raoul tiptoe through the meal; she smiled cheerfully and avoided any mention of Wyldon, leaving them all decidedly off balance. Only Penelope seemed capable of carrying on conversation as usual.Then just after the pear tart had been served, Alanna pounced.

"I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter Penelope?"

The girl froze with her fork away to her mouth. "Which matter? Lady Knight."

"Lord Wyldon's terms, would you have accepted them?"

Penelope swallowed and glanced once at Neal, who was shaking his head slightly. She ignored this advice. "I'd like to think I wouldn't let anything stop me from earning my shield. So, yes I'd probably have accepted them, Lady Knight, if I hadn't had been blessed with a better circumstance."

Alanna snorted but said nothing, raising her eyebrows to indicate that Penelope should continue.

"In the scheme of things, four years with Lord Wyldon would be easier than living as a boy for eight." Penelope nodded ever so slightly at Alanna and popped a forkful of pear tart into her mouth.

Alanna couldn't think of a reply to that so she turned instead to Neal. "How in Mithros' name did _your _squire learn to be so diplomatic?"

Neal shrugged in relief. "I've no idea," he muttered. "Perhaps it's innate survival instinct."

After his nerve-racking supper, Neal found the next day's engagement with the centaur gang refreshingly straightforward and unfrightening. After all, he knew how to keep an eye on their front hooves and avoid being kicked from the battlefield. It was a rather bloody fight, but it was over quickly and he soon found himself running the healer's tent with Penelope at his elbow to fetch supplies while Alanna and Raoul negotiated surrender.

He was bandaging up a man with a long cut down his arm when he first heard the gossip. A handful of men were talking outside and their voices carried easily through the panels of the tent.

"The four of them traveling together…Who's bedding who, do you suppose?"

"Not much question of it," someone replied gruffly. "Queenscove never bothered taking a squire until she showed up, but he was pretty quick to take her on."

"And there was some sort of scandal this spring—that's how they wound up with the Lady Knight as a chaperone."

Neal glanced hurriedly at Penelope. She had frozen on her way to grab more bandages; her back was to him and her shoulders shook slightly. She'd definitely heard. He watched her fingers curl slowly into fists.

Meanwhile, new voices joined the crowd outside.

"Chaperone indeed! Her comely little squire wasn't enough for her and Queenscove's old knight mistress wanted him back."

"Knight mistress!" someone laughed. "Night mistress!"

"And who knows what kind of duels the squires get into while they're otherwise occupied."

The man on the cot before him let out a groan and Neal realized he'd bandaged him too tightly. He unwound the bandage quickly, his hands shaking with fury.

"Pen?" he whispered.

Penelope grabbed an armful of bandages and whirled around to face Neal. He looked just as frustrated as she felt. She gripped the bandages tightly and clenched her jaw together as she strode toward him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded, not wanting to risk opening her mouth for fear of crying. But he didn't look convinced, so, praying she wouldn't sob, she opened her mouth. And a great belly-ripping laugh sprang out. It wasn't funny, really, but she couldn't help it. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she grew dizzy from lack of breath before she could control her mirth. And by then Neal was biting his own lip to keep from laughing.

"Better?" he asked when they'd finally stopped.

The man whose arm he was supposed to be tending grunted in disagreement, but Penelope nodded. "Calmer anyway. We've been on the road a little too long." She sighed, setting down the spare bandages so she could collect the water basin. "They'll have you and Dalton together next I suppose."

Neal grimaced. "More likely it'll be you and—"

Raoul strode unexpectedly into the tent and clapped him on the shoulder before he could finish. "Word has it you fancy boys."

"Better that then irritable champions or incorrigible squires," Neal told him scathingly.

"I've ordered a halt to it," Raoul told him sympathetically. "But the worst of it's coming from outside the Own. And given your, er, notoriety, it's difficult to keep people from talking. Alanna's a kind of war goddess to them—she's untouchable. And so is Penelope for that matter—you can't hit a young noblewoman—"

" But you can talk about her," Penelope finished, "even if it isn't polite."

Raoul nodded in acknowledgement. "Your success is frustrating them. Not to mention your recent survival—of the attack and the scandal. They can't make bets on when you'll get killed, so they make things up about you."

"Perhaps, I'll just have to give them something more real to talk about," Penelope said absently, passing another bandage to Neal.

"The attacks are too frequent and too well orchestrated to be simple coincidence," Alanna told Jon through her mage mirror. "I'm afraid we're going to see a repeat of the Immortals' war."

He nodded grimly. "Numair's telling me the same thing. Something's brewing. I'd like you here as soon as possible—before things boil over."

"Speaking of which, why didn't you tell me about Wyldon?"

"I didn't think you'd believe me," he said.

Alanna grinned. "Some reputations are hard to overcome."

"I'd like to royally request that you not kill him," Jon told her. "He's trying, you know."

"I'll wait until Selena has her shield," Alanna informed. "But you might want to warn him away before I come home."

"Sorry," said Dalton when Penelope finally found him washing his hands after he'd helped with centaur burial. "I'll try to keep my distance for a day or so—give things time to die down. I understand if you don't want to—"

Penelope shook her head quickly and grabbed his arm. She glanced about to be sure they had an audience before kissing him. He wrapped hesitant fingers about the back of her head and kissed her back.

"What are you—"

Penelope silenced him with another kiss.

"Someone guessed right," Raoul said as he strode by. "That ought to do it." Dalton still looked pleasantly puzzled.

"I've decided I'm going to have a deservedly bad, but indestructible, reputation and use it to get away with murder," Penelope informed him.

"Stealing a strategy from the Lioness?" Dalton teased.

Penelope smiled. "It's proven highly effective in the long term."

Penelope swallowed nervously when Alanna stormed into the healer's tent where she was sitting with Raoul, Neal, and Dalton. She wasn't ready for another lecture.

But the tongue-lashing wasn't directed at her. Alanna turned instead to Raoul. "You wouldn't believe the rumors that are going around this camp."

Raoul held up his hands in apology. "I'm doing my best to—"

"Do you know what they're saying about me and Lord Wyldon?"

"No," said Neal, "and please don't tell us. That kind of unnaturalness just doesn't bear thinking about."

"I'd kill him for it," Alanna said pleasantly. "Only I'm hoping overhearing this will stop his heart."

_That's all for now. I hope to have an episode up by the end of Feb. or the beginning of March, depending on my midterm schedule. We'll see what happens when Neal and Penelope return to the palace. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	18. Sacrifice

_Sorry about the delay in updating, I was hit—more like run over—by a very nasty flu virus midway through writing. I'm also blaming the virus for the grimmer tones in this episode. _

_By request, a synopsis of recent events: Neal and Penelope have been traveling with Alanna and Dalton, encountering various oversized monsters, irritable knights, and unpleasant rumors. Penelope cheerfully abandoned all attempts to disguise her relationship with Dalton, however, Alanna's reaction to the rumors about herself and Wyldon threatened considerable violence. Meanwhile, Kel convinced Wyldon to take on a female squire, Lady Selena. This episode begins on the day Alanna, Neal, Penelope, and Dalton return to the palace. _

_As always, thanks to Tamora Pierce for letting us play with her characters and setting. _

Raoul appeared just as she was dismissing the pages to their afternoon and Kel knew when he returned her smile with only a shadowy grimace, that something was terribly wrong.

"Where's Dom?" she asked, feeling as though her heart had begun spinning unpleasantly in her chest. "What's happened to him?" It was the only reason Raoul would speak to her so privately and unexpectedly.

Raoul swallowed and dropped his eyes to the ground.

"Is he alive?" Kel demanded, stepping involuntarily towards Raoul.

"I don't know—a few of the men under his command think so. He was taken captive by a small tribe of giants along with a few others. He was knocked unconscious before they dragged him away."

Hearing it from a distance is worse than seeing it in battle, Kel thought as she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking, because it has already happened and I can't change it. This was what she feared most in the world and it had taken her completely by surprise.

Raoul grasped her elbow in one of his enormous hands and began walking her away from the practice grounds as he continued explaining. "There hasn't been a ransom note—not that giants usually do that sort of thing—but there's no indication that they killed any of the captives."

"Where?" Kel asked. "Where did it happen?"

"About a day's ride west of here," Raoul told her. "The king's hesitant to send in more troops—he's worried it's part of a large scale immortal uprising."

Kel nodded, breathing shakily, and Raoul swept her into a brief hug. "I've got a council meeting now," he whispered, "but I wanted you to hear it from me."

Kel just nodded again, not trusting herself to speak, and watched Raoul hurry away. Then, without thinking about where she was going, she walked until she found herself in Peachblossom's stall, resting her forehead against his neck.

Neal found her in the stables just minutes after his return when he came to put away his horse. He hadn't even had time to see Yuki.

"I heard Raoul telling Alanna," he said, stepping cautiously into the stall. Peachblossom had mellowed in his old age and he only cocked an ear at Neal in greeting. "Are you all right?" he took a step closer to Kel.

"I can't just stand here waiting," she said, lifting her head suddenly. "I won't."

"Kel," Neal said warningly. "The king hasn't authorized a rescue mission. And think about your daughter—you can't just leave her all alone—if something should happen to you. And Dom wouldn't want you to take this kind of—"

Something in Kel's eyes when she turned to glare at him silenced Neal. "If it were me though," he whispered, pulling her into a quick hug, "I'd want you there. You're very good at saving people."

Kel nodded gratefully. "Neal, can you get Hoshi's saddle?"

He turned to go, but she grabbed his elbow. "And can you look after Kefira while I'm away, and even if"—she swallowed—" I don't come back?"

"I can't promise that," he said, "because I'm coming with you. But you know your daughter has a place in the Wildmage's heart, and Yuki's, and Raoul's, and the Lioness's, and even—frightening as it is—Wyldon's."

Kel nodded awkwardly and he turned to leave, only to find Penelope standing quietly behind a stack of straw, holding Hoshi's tack ready. Dalton appeared a moment later with gear for Neal's spare mount.

"Not a word to anyone," Neal breathed, "and no you absolutely may not come with us. They both drew their lips together and shrugged eloquently.

Kel smiled at them when she stepped out. "Kefira spent the morning in town with the dressmaker Lalasa. She'll be returning shortly. Penelope, would you take her to Daine and Tobe and explain things?" Kel asked as she collected Hoshi's gear from her.

Penelope nodded mutely and winked at Neal before running off.

"So," Neal began conversationally after they'd ridden for a few hours, "you're not worried about loosing your position as training master?"

"It'll be the least of my worries if we don't bring Dom back," Kel muttered, then she felt her lips twist into the wisp of a smile. "Besides, I'm only going after a few men this time, and I seem to remember getting away with going after a whole refugee camp." Kel glanced back at Neal. "You don't seem worried about loosing your shield."

"I'm not. I still consider this whole knighthood business a piece of youthful folly."

BACK AT THE PALACE

Wyldon volunteered to supervise the pages training the next morning when it became clear that Keladry was unavailable. He found that their movements—even the girls', as he forced himself to admit—were disciplined, but there was an informality to their manners that he would never have allowed. He suspected that Penelope and Dalton's presence—they had come to help supervise—was probably encouraging their cheekiness. Still, he appreciated their help; he was loathe to admit it, but he was getting older and he'd grown accustomed to Selena's assistance.

After dismissing the pages, he lingered on the practice courts with the three squires, giving them more fine-tuned pointers on dueling technique. That was where Kefira found them. She'd come looking for her mother, Wyldon supposed, but she settled for tugging on Selena's hand. Selena shrugged at Wyldon and picked the girl up, spinning her about until she shrieked with laughter. Then Selena set Kefira down and shooed her towards Wyldon so that she could duel Penelope.

She was just wrapping tentative fingers around his thumb when Lady Alanna appeared at the end of the practice courts.

"I suggest you maintain your strategic position, sir," whispered Dalton. "She wasn't pleased with the rumor that the two of you were um—"

"Nor was I," Wyldon cooed gruffly, trying not the startle the small child, who was all that stood between him and a duel with the furious lady knight. "Nor was I."

Dalton backed carefully away and appeared to become absorbed in watching the duel between Penelope and Selena. He was well practiced in the art of survival.

"Good afternoon, Lord Wyldon," Alanna said stiffly.

Wyldon kept his face studiously blank as he returned her nod. Kefira glanced curiously between the two of them and tugged softly at his hand, dragging him towards the lady knight. The girl had undoubtedly inherited her mother's suicidal urge to improve the world in general and unsociable older knights in particular.

"We have much to discuss," Wyldon said, reluctantly allowing the child to draw him closer to Alanna. "But I won't apologize for—"

"We have nothing to discuss," Alanna said crisply, taking a few steps towards Kefira. She extended a weathered hand to push a lock of hair out of Kefira's face. "Not today anyway," she added, shooting him a sharp glance.

"Not today," Wyldon agreed, lifting Kefira and passing her into Alanna's arms. "She ought to have some lunch," he muttered.

"Indeed," Alanna replied, somehow managing to shoot him piercing glance as she smiled at Kefira.

Kefira waved a small hand at him over Alanna's shoulder as she was carried up to the kitchen. Wyldon lifted a finger to his lips and waved back, wondering if his own grandchildren would turn out so sly and sweet.

Kel and Neal arrived near the giants' camp around midafternoon. It was raining so heavily that Kel had trouble seeing the entrance to their cave through her spyglass. She counted three giants and one ogre and guessed there were more in the surrounding woods.

"So, have you got a tactical strategy?" Neal asked.

Kel shook her head. "Not really."

"We're both unprepared then. I can't think of anything cynical to say."

" Now I'm frightened," Kel muttered. She sighed and glanced towards the cave. "We can either try to charge our way in with brute force or attempt to sneak in."

"Let's do both," Neal said. "Only I'm going to start by creating a diversion and I have every intention of running when they come after me."

Kel collapsed her spyglass and dismounted, leaving Hoshi and their spare mount hidden amidst a thick patch of trees. "Wait till I'm a little closer to appear in the open," she instructed, tapping Neal's knee once before slipping into the trees.

"Don't worry," he whispered after her. "Unlike you, I actually prefer to minimize my exposure to mortal peril."

Neal gave her just enough time to conceal herself in a bush beside the cave's entrance before he rode into the giants' view, shouting insults Kel strongly suspected to be direct quotes from an epic they'd read as pages and brandishing his sword. It was moderately effective, however, as all but one of the giants grabbed clubs and set off after him. He allowed them to surround him before darting off, forcing his horse to weave amongst their ankles so he could scratch at them with his sword before leading them farther from the cave.

Kel didn't watch for long—though she could hear him shouting further insults, probably from a play about Alferic the Giantkiller—instead, she drew her sword, and leapt for the remaining giant, nearly severing his wrist with her first blow. He howled in outrage and swung his club at her, knocking her to the ground. But he was somewhat distracted by the sight of his own blood, which gave Kel time to stagger to her feet and attack again, jabbing at his gut. He swung once more at her, missing, before he began sinking and Kel was inside the cave by the time he had hit the ground.

She saw Dom's body stretched out on a ledge beside those of his men and she just had time to register that he was the only one breathing before a massive sword swung into her view, just missing her head by inches. She turned reflexively and found herself face to face with another ogre—a small one, fortunately; in her rush to find Dom she'd forgotten to be sure the cave was clear.

Shaking with impatient rage, Kel ducked its next blow and ran the Immortal through. She had to get Dom out fast, before any more of them showed up.

She yanked him of the ledge, pulling his head into her lap so she could kiss his cheek before she began hacking through the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles.

"Kel," he moaned, recognizing her as she helped him sit up. "Mithros!" he hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you home," Kel whispered shortly. "Can you walk?"

"Maybe. Cenulf and Giles?" His voice was dull but not entirely helpless.

"Sorry," Kel muttered. "We're too late." She pulled him to his feet. He was badly bruised and had several nasty looking cuts but nothing appeared to be broken.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked.

Kel wasn't sure who he meant—he still seemed disoriented—so she gave the simplest answer possible: "Neal's outside."

"You—" he began but then he had to tug both of them to the cave floor—Kel landed heavily on top of him and worried she had caused further bruising—as an enormous bat-like creature swept just over their faces, claws extended.

"…not sure what they are," Dom muttered weakly. "They've got lots in the caves…I think…poisonous—one bit Giles." He shuddered as she helped him back to his feet. "Best just to run for it," he added, but he contradicted his own advice by grabbing one of the dog sized monsters from the air just before it hit Kel's neck and flinging it against the wall.

Kel bit back a shriek and wrapped Dom's arm firmly about her shoulders so that she could drag his hobbling form outside.

She whistled for Hoshi and the spare mount, blessing Daine for their excellent training, and hoisted Dom awkwardly into a saddle, glancing around for Neal.

"Mount up!" Neal shouted suddenly. "Let's go!" She obeyed without bothering to see where his voice was coming from and found herself jolted by a wave of dismay when she spotted him.

Neal was riding directly at her at a full gallop and he was followed by what could only be described as an army—there were at least twenty of them—of giants. Dom blinked at them and managed to croak out a few choice curses before he swayed and fell forwards in the saddle, just conscious enough to grip his horse's mane.

Kel grabbed his reins and swung Hoshi around, trusting Neal to catch them when he could. His voice reached them before Magewhisper did.

"Even I can formulate a brilliant strategy for this kind of situation," he shouted to Kel.

"It's called retreat," Kel admitted through gritted teeth.

"Actually," Neal muttered weakly, as Magewhisper drew even with Hoshi, "I was going to say it was immediate, organized, and irrevocable evacuation."

"That's what we'll tell the king in our report then," Kel agreed, glancing back and finding that the giants were already loosing ground. "They'll tire soon; we just have to ride away from any villages until they've given up."

"An excellent plan, if two of us didn't need immediate attention from a healer," Neal hissed. It was only then that Kel realized how pale his rain soaked face was and saw that his left thigh was soaked in blood and that his arm had been bitten by, probably by one of the bat creatures.

Kel wasn't certain how long it took her to loose the giants. She rode for hours through the rain, guiding Neal and Dom's horses as well as her own as they slid in and out of consciousness. It was nightfall by the time she reached a small village inn, the Curious Cat, and Dom was shivering and feverish. Neal was strong enough to dismount on his own but he proceeded to collapse on the inn's steps, blocking them completely.

Kel sat between the two warriors as the healer—a middle aged man and only moderately gifted—tended them and remained there, grasping both of their hands, for most of the night. Neal had indeed been bitten, which seemed to have entirely drained away his own healing Gift. Dom called out frequently in his dreams but he woke only once.

"Idiots," he murmured fondly after he'd surveyed them. "You shouldn't have come alone."

"You didn't leave me any choice," Kel whispered back. But Dom had already sunk back into sleep. She stood, sighing, and tucked Neal in before stretching out alongside Dom.

BACK AT THE PALACE

"By rights, she ought to be demoted," the king said, "for abandoning her post without notice, not to mention taking off on an unsanctioned mission and endangering relations with the Immortals."

Penelope started off the floor, drawing breath to protest, but Dalton clapped a hand over her lips before she had made a sound.

"Don't," he whispered, brushing his lips against her ear. "We'll be kicked out if we're caught."

She sighed slowly with agreement and settled back on the dusty floor. From their vantage point beneath a bench she could just make out George holding Alanna in a similar position and whispering urgently in her ear.

Meanwhile, Wyldon addressed the king. "She didn't leave the post entirely vacant, sire, its been no trouble for me to step in for a few days. And I can report that she has been doing an excellent job." Alanna bristled at this but nodded stiffly at Wyldon when he'd finished speaking.

"Besides, sire," Numair added as he stepped forward with a hawk-shaped Daine on his shoulder—she'd come straight from spying and hadn't had time to change before the meeting—"we've known for weeks now that a war with the Immortals is only a matter of time. Keladry is more catalyst than instigator."

"And given this particular knight's history," Raoul added, "you should have considered anything short of a direct command to stay here as tacit permission to rescue her husband."

Jonathon sighed and appeared to be wavering when Alanna ducked away from George and stepped forward. " If you agree to protect Keladry's position, Lord Wyldon and I will promise to refrain from intentionally killing one another."

Penelope gasped slightly at this, catching up a nose full of cobwebs, and the king looked questioningly at Wyldon.

"Indeed, sire, we will do our utmost to remain a semblance of civility in all of our interactions." Wyldon refused to look at Alanna as he spoke, but his voice was calm and well modulated.

"Very well," the king pronounced finally, "though I warn you, we are going to have to host a highly conventional midwinter celebration and--"

At this moment, Penelope sneezed so violently her chin crashed into the stone floor. The king and all of his counselors turned to stare in their direction and she shrugged bashfully at Dalton as they crawled out from beneath the bench.

"And someone will have to assign these squires a long series of conventional punishments," the king finished.

" They ought to start by mopping this floor," Thayet said calmly.

"I thought I taught you better than that," George muttered to Dalton as he passed. "I meant for you to hide behind the screen at the back; dusty floors are always dangerous."

If Kel hadn't been supporting Dom as they staggered into her chambers, she might have collapsed in surprise. Their sitting room was occupied by Wyldon and Alanna, who were perched on opposite ends of the sofa, eying each other warily and gnashing their teeth frequently as they told Kefira a story about the first Immortals War. Kefira—apparently oblivious to the danger of an explosion—was trotting back and forth between them, poking at Wyldon's bald spot and tugging at Alanna's amulet. They both tolerated Kefira's interruptions fairly well but their fingers twitched threatening whenever they corrected one another on a particular fact.

To Kel's immense relief, they were well supervised by the small crowd that had gathered. Greyson was curled at Wyldon's feet with his head in Selena's lap. Daine sat nearby, looking ready to change into a rhinoceros should an intervention be called for. Numair sat beside her, looking ready to freeze all of them in midair.

Kel barely had time to say hello before Rikash proved his own readiness to pull his sister's hair by tugging violently at it so that she shrieked loudly and Kitten let out a sympathetic howl. At this, Tobe whistled cheerfully and turned to George with an outstretch palm. George sighed grudgingly and dropped several coins into it. Kel decided to pretend she hadn't seen Tobe gambling when he appeared at her elbow to help Dom into bed.

"You're very lucky," Alanna murmured as she passed Kefira into Kel's arms. "You've saved your husband and we've managed to save your post as training master."

"With a bit of personal sacrifice, she'd like to add," George muttered. He said it lightly, but Kel flinched anyway, thinking of Neal and his weakened Gift, which would take weeks to restore itself.

"Speaking of which," Wyldon put in, "when you think of any unpleasant manual labor that needs to be done, you are to assign Penelope and Dalton to it." He swiveled around suddenly, "and don't smirk at their misfortune Selena, just because you weren't caught, or I'll find a particularly tedious pile of paperwork for you."

Tobe reappeared to help Kel with her boots once the others had left. "I knew you'd bring him back," he said, whispering since Kefira was beginning to doze off.

"I just wish I'd brought Neal back in better shape," Kel whispered.

"As lazy as he is," Tobe told her, "he'll enjoy the excuse to sit around letting his leg and Gift mend."

_Thanks for reading and please review. I'll try to have another episode up in a week or two. _


	19. Council of War

_I'm glad to be back with a lighter episode. My semester schedule seems to be settled so I'm hoping to manage regular updates for a while. As always, anything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce and much that you don't recognize was probably inspired by her. _

_Synopsis: Kel and Neal (who was seriously injured and had his gift drained by a mysterious monster) just returned from rescuing Dom from the tribe of giants that had taken him captive. Alanna and Wyldon were forced to work together in order to keep Kel from loosing her job after she disappeared to find Dom. And Dalton and Penelope were caught spying on the negotiation and are facing hours of punishment work. This episode takes place the morning after the last ended. _

"It's a large scale offensive" Numair muttered, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes as he assessed the situation.

"Indeed," Daine said. "I'd go so far as to call it a war of annihilation."

"Precisely," Numair agreed. "Only I haven't got a strategy for a counter attack."

"It's already a lost cause," Daine murmured, setting her cheek against his chest so that he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I say we go back to sleep," she added, taking one last regretful look at the wreckage. Their rug was a torn and smoldering ruin in the aftermath of their children's morning squabble.

Kitten blinked back at them and belched mildly. Numair nodded stiffly at the dragon before tugging the quilt around them and dropping his head back to the pillow. An obliging black fox draped a tail over his eyes to block out the morning sunshine. He had just drifted back into a blissful doze when a knock at the door startled him awake.

The page had vanished by the time Numair reached the door, but Sarra stood beside it, looking grave.

"The king wants to see you at your earliest con—convenin"—Sarra scowled—"as soon as you can come."

"Magelet," he called softly.

But she was already up and pulling on trousers. "He'd better to remember to serve breakfast this time," she growled.

MMMM

"Morning," Kel whispered as Dom's eyelids fluttered open.

"Morning," he whispered back. He propped himself up in a seated position—he was still weak and bruised from his ordeal—and looked sleepily down at Kel. "Sorry about collapsing last night. Did you manage to get them all out the door in one piece?"

Kel nodded, reaching over lazily to wrap her fingers through his. "I owe them everything, all over again. They uh—smoothed things over before we got back."

Dom frowned. "You shouldn't have come."

"How can you say that? You might have been killed." Kel lifted her head worriedly but she kept her voice low so that Kefira wouldn't wake.

Dom shook his head sadly. "You might have been killed in a failed rescue attempt. It wasn't worth the risk. Kefira would have been left an orphan and Tobe. Not to mention you could have lost your position. Then where would you be. Promise me next time you won't--"

Kel's fingers tightened around his. "Promise me there won't be a next time."

Dom sighed. "That's not a promise either of us can make or keep. Especially not now with all of the strange Immortal attacks."

"You would have come for me," she reminded him, "if it had been the other way around. Even if it meant leaving her with Alanna or Neal."

"Yes," he conceded, finally softening his tone. "But you left her with Alanna and Wyldon and you brought my reckless noble-minded cousin with you." He chuckled faintly as he pulled her back into his arms, kissing her forehead.

"Very well," Kel told him. "Next time I'll be sure to—"

But she was interrupted by a frantic knocking at her door. Opening it she found Winston—one of her third year pages—sloppily dressed and breathing hard.

"King Jonathon requests your immediate presence in the council room," he told her, panting slightly, before sprinting off towards another door.

MMMM

"I almost hate to wake him up," Dalton muttered, as he and Penelope made their way across the infirmary to Neal's bed. "He looks so peaceful." Neal was snoring softly from amidst a veritable nest of books, scrolls, and blankets.

"Don't worry," Penelope told him. "He's going to be an absolute bear and you'll feel completely justified."

"Besides," Yuki put in from her corner, "if he's needed as a witness, it's for the good of the realm."

"Duty calls," Penelope said brightly before skipping across the room to whistle cheerfully in Neal's ear. She just barely dodged Neal's fist as he punched wildly at her head.

"You might try opening your eyes, sir," Dalton suggested as he tugged away Neal's blankets. "I find it vastly improves my own aim."

"Devilish duo," Neal murmured as he open bleary eyes and gazed around expectantly.

Yuki dart forward and shoved a mug of very strong tea into his hands. He gave her a small cantankerous smile and drained it in a series of steady, deliberate sips.

"To what do I owe this delightful disruption?"

"His majesty requests your immediate and fully conscious presence at the council of war," Dalton told him. "Numair wants you to describe the whatever-it-was that bit you."

"And you've been sent to fetch me?"

"They didn't think Winston would be able to carry you by himself," Penelope explained as Neal began hobbling down the hall between them with one arm slung across each of their shoulders. "And Mindelan said it would be a nice unconventional beginning to our 'Day of Conventional Toil and Drudgery'".

"If I'd known that," Neal puffed, leaning on Dalton while Penelope opened the council room door. "I'd have demanded an elegant breakfast tray."

The king himself greeted them at the door. "That will be all," he told the squires, "you two are to go polish the—"

"It might be more prudent to have them do something useful given the current situation," Raoul interrupted. Jonathon nodded in agreement and Raoul continued, "find Sergeant Domitan and inform him that you are to help ready supplies for the tenth, twelfth, fourteenth, and sixteenth units."

They bowed quickly and disappeared, leaving Neal to make his own wobbly way to an empty chair between Alanna and Kel. There, he did his best to describe the strange bat-shaped-cat-sized thing that he hadn't even realized was biting him at the time. When he had finished he was met with silence and a circle of puzzled frowns. Eventually, the queen took pity on his haggard face and passed him a glass of juice and a slice of sweet bread.

"We can no longer ignore our situation," the king said, finally. "We are facing renewed Immortal attacks and bizarre and unprecedented magic as well as new and potentially deadly magical beings."

"I could—"Daine began, and Numair flinched at her words, but ground his teeth together and let her finish—"attempt to communicate with them. Possibly convince them not to disrupt two-leggers."

"I'd advise against that," Numair put in immediately. "I highly doubt that they are sentient beings—they're more likely to be magical constructs. I'm afraid any attempt to communicate would be dangerous and futile. I think they're being created by an Immortal mage."

"One who is coordinating the combined attacks?" Wyldon asked.

Numair nodded. "I'll need to seek him out"—this time, Neal noticed, it was Daine who flinched—"and attempt negotiations, although I doubt he'll be willing to see reason."

"You don't have any sense of his whereabouts though," the king said thoughtfully. "And I don't like the idea of being left undefended while you go looking for him."

"Or her," the queen put in bluntly. "No it might be best if we concentrated on—"

"Horse Lords!" Daine interrupted, launching into a long, loud, and unapologetic spate of cursing. When she had finished she turned back towards the king and said, calmly, "They're coming now. From what I can hear virtually every Immortal in the realm is moving towards the capitol, but—"

There was a loud squeal at the entrance and Kitten barreled through the door and across the room, crashing into Daine's chair and knocking her over.

"It's like they're all just responding to a signal of some kind," Daine continued as she grabbed Numair's hand and swung herself to her feet. "It's not just an attack though." Daine took a shaky breath, gathering her thoughts. "Some of them our coming to ask our protection."

"From what?" Alanna asked.

"_Him," _Daine said, rolling her eyes at the queen. "It's a him. That's all I know."

"That's to be expected," Thayet muttered as she stood to issue orders for the Riders.

Meanwhile, Jon had already summoned a servant. "Sound the bells," he ordered. "I'm declaring war." And they all dove into action.

Daine transformed into an eagle and launched herself off Numair's shoulder and out the window. Numair gave a disgruntled sigh and followed her to the battlements on foot. Wyldon volunteered to command a unit of the Own and Raoul asked Kel to send her pages to the stables to help ready mounts and weapons.

Neal clambered to his feet to help but found that the room began spinning wildly as soon as he did so, forcing him back into his chair. He sipped pensively at his juice, watching the room empty. Clearly, he wasn't going to take an active part in this particular campaign. But it might be the perfect time to finish researching his book on the history of Tortall's women warriors. If only he could make it back to his scrolls without passing out.

MMMM

Penelope stiffened when the bells began but she didn't loose count of the ropes she was inventorying.

"Fifteen," she called out for Dalton to mark down. And her voice was so calm it seemed to belong to someone else. "What's next?"

"Bandages, to be tied together in stacks of ten." Dalton lifted a pile of the shelf, setting them on the table so that they could start. "We haven't seen war before."

"No," Penelope said quietly, shifting her feet so that she could stand with her side against Dalton's; she was very cold suddenly, but his shoulder felt warm against hers. "We haven't done this before." She tucked a loose strand of hair back into her braid. "How many folds do you think?"

"Eight—that's what the one's that are already packed have anyway." Dalton grasped her elbow briefly before stepping away to grab more bandages. The bells were still sounding but they were quieter now that he'd gotten used to them. "We're ready though—I hope—we've seen more Immortals than lots of knights."

Penelope waited until Dalton was beside her again, with the elbows touching, to speak. "This can't be that different really from our skirmishes with Spidren or the centaur battle at—"

"War is just a shorter name for a longer, bloodier fight," Dom interrupted, stepping back through the door. "When you're one the ground, trying to live through it, you can't tell the difference," he added, not unkindly. "Never mind that now," he said, gesturing at their bandage folding. He frowned for a moment as he surveyed the supply room. Then Kefira wandered in, coming to tug urgently at his hand, and he scooped her up, suddenly decisive. "Start carrying the replacement supplies to the stables and loading the saddle bags." And then he disappeared, carrying Kefira away.

"I wonder where what they're going to do with her?" Penelope said, gathering an armload of gear. She was almost jealous of Kefira's blissful ignorance, her secure knowledge that her parents would see to everything—if only they came back from battle.

"She'll be as safe as anyone here," Dalton said. "Lady Yuki will watch her if no one else is available."

Alanna met them at the stables and ordered them to drop the Own's gear. "Saddle your own mount," she told Dalton. "We're riding out in a few minutes to stop a Spidren and Hurrok band from attacking town. The Wildmage just spotted their arrival."

MMMM

"Neal?" Kel asked hesitantly from the doorway. Her friend's face was ashen still and she hadn't had a real chance to talk to him since his collapse.

He glanced up at her and pulled his lips into a tight half-smile, shoving aside the scroll he'd been examining. "So, you're riding off without me this time?" he said sleepily.

"I need to ask a favor," Kel told him. "Yet again."

"Don't bother," he told her. "You know we'll watch Kefira. She's adorable enough that it's biologically impossible to ignore her. A fortunately universal trait shared by small children, which she didn't inherit from either parent."

"Thanks," said Kel. "But I'd actually taken that for granted." She shrugged apologetically. "I need to borrow your squire though."

Neal nodded. "No sense in her missing out on the experience." He sighed. "Bring her back in one piece though. I thought she was one of your brilliant torture schemes at first, but I've gotten rather attached. And she doesn't always think to keep track of herself." Neal paused to sigh loudly and catch his breath. "So, there will be dire consequences of an excruciating and prolonged nature if you don't keep track of her."

Kel nodded. "Thanks. I'll do my best." She ruffled his hair—he was too weak to protest and she couldn't resist the temptation—and turned to leave.

"Kel?"

"Yes?"

"The same goes for you if you don't keep track of yourself. I wouldn't want to have to make a lifetime commitment to Kefira. She's cute now, but I'm predicting a brutally stubborn adolescence."

Kel just shook her head. "Farewell, oh fountain of wisdom and hope."

She sprinted to her room were Tobe held Kefira up for her to kiss and then helped her into her armor. Kefira burst into tears as Yuki picked her up. Kel herself had to bite back a heart-wrenching sob. It was too soon to be leaving again so suddenly. No wonder her daughter didn't trust her to return. In her armor, Kel couldn't even properly hug her goodbye.

Yuki kept her face still as she nodded farewell but her eyes were pools of sympathy as she turned to murmur in Kefira's ear.

"She'll be okay," Tobe told her as they walked together to the stables. "You won't be gone long and at least she doesn't spout a tail during her tantrums like Sarra does sometimes."

Kel forced out a chuckle. "Thank the Goddess for small mercies."

MMMM

Dom spotted her on his way to rejoin his unit. He had to shout her name to be heard over the sounds of men and horses rushing about and the raucous calls of the Stormwings gathering overheard. She scurried through the chaos to kiss his cheek and whisper, "she's safe, with Yuki."

"About what I said this morning," he began, but a man called his name, urging him to hurry.

"Never mind," Kel whispered reluctantly.

Dom grasped her hand once more and whispered simply, "take care."

"You too," she ordered as he walked away. "Come back."

"Promise," he called over his shoulder. It was what she needed to hear and, this one, he'd keep or die trying.

MMMM

Penelope bit her lip to keep from calling out after Dalton as he rode away with Lady Alanna. Neither of them looked back at her as they rode away. When they'd passed through the gates, Penelope looked uncertainly at her own mount. No one had given her any orders, but she knew Neal wasn't coming.

"Mount up, Proudlake!" a voice called. And she spun around to find Wyldon and Selena rushing past her. "Mindelan's horse is all ready and she'll be here in a moment," he told her. She stood blinking at him. "Go on! You might be her favorite, but that doesn't mean she wants to wait for you."

Keladry rode up just as Penelope mounted. "Ready?" she asked.

Penelope nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"You've gotten better at lying," Mindelan told her and Penelope found the complaint oddly reassuring.

"Queenscove has been a good teacher," she called as soon as she had found her voice.

The lady knight snorted softly in reply as they passed through the gates. Then they set off at a gallop to meet the Immortal band.

_I know, I know, it's a cruel cliffhanger, but I'll try to have another episode up by next weekend. (At least Neal isn't in imminent danger of anything more than paper cuts.) Thanks for reading and remember that reviews encourage updating!_


	20. War

_The location and characters belong to Tamora Pierce; I just like to put them in mortal peril for amusement's sake. _

_Synopsis: The last episode saw everyone but Neal—who was recently injured—riding out to battle attacking Immortals. _

By late afternoon, a cold breeze was gusting off the hillside, cooling Kel's sweaty skin. She glanced anxiously around the carnage—experiencing a flutter of relief each time she spotted a familiar face: Dom, Raoul, Owen, Alanna, Penelope, Wyldon—and wondered what they were all going to do when night fell. The battle wasn't going to end anytime soon and the Immortals would undoubtedly have better nocturnal vision than their human opponents.

"Watch out!" Penelope screamed.

Kel got her sword up just in time to slice the leg off the Hurrok that dove at her. It circled and dove next at Penelope, who fended it off quickly, slashing at its neck. A Rider's arrow dropped it before it could swing in for a third attack.

Kel shook her head, scolding herself for being caught unawares. Still, she couldn't help feeling that there had been something different about the last Hurrok. It had come out of nowhere and it hadn't been clustered with any of the others. Then the strangeness of what she was seeing hit her: the Immortals—all different species, as the original Spidren and Hurroks had been joined by countless others—were fighting in a tight coordinated formation, something they had never done before. It made their attack less effective because they were plunging in independently, but it also made them harder to kill because they were massed together. And yet, there was something oddly sluggish about their behavior; there might be a weakness to exploit there.

"Raoul," Kel called, riding towards him through the Tortallan fighters who were struggling futilely against the exterior ranks of the Immortal band. "I think I have an idea."

MMMM

"Alright," Daine said slowly, trying to direct her thoughts at all of the Immortals assembled on the battlement. "Let me see if I understand you correctly. Grenwald, the Spidren mage, has created an army by intimidating other Immortals into pledging loyalty to him?"

The assembled griffins, Stormwings, and basilisk made various squawks, shouts, and hisses to assure her that this was correct. Numair raised his eyebrows and laced his fingers through hers.

"Grenwald's ultimate goal is to overthrow human rule and take over the realm for himself. He's out there somewhere in the center, controlling the others' minds—moving them in blocks—as though they are his pawns."

Again, the assembly signaled that she was correct.

"I didn't even know there were Spidren mages," she muttered, turning to Numair. "Did you?"

"Of—" he began and then he made a funny swallowing sound and scowled at the griffins. "No," he said sheepishly. "I suppose I'll have to distract him somehow—ideally by destroying him—to break his concentration. With any luck that will break the formation and free some of the Immortals from their pledges."

Daine nodded. "Do you have any idea how to do that without getting killed?" she asked, glancing pointedly at the griffins.

"A few. It's just a matter of getting to him," Numair added, looking imploringly towards the Stormwings.

"No," the leader announced. "We cannot carry you. The closer we come to Grenwald, the greater the risk of our falling under his control."

"So you're just going to sit here and wait for him?"

"We won't even go to desecrate bodies while he is there," he answered, settling his wings.

"Never mind, Numair," Daine said slowly. "I think maybe I can carry—"

"No! Absolutely not!" Numair glared sharply at the Stormwings. "I know you're going to come anyway, Magelet, since you obviously feel the need to supervise, but you should be able to get away if necessary."

"But Numair, " Daine said sweetly, "it'll be an experiment."

"Those are _my _famous last words," he muttered, but he held up his hands in surrender.

MMMM

At first, Penelope thought the shadow overhead was a new kind of creature. Then it unleashed a strange black lightning which temporarily stunned everyone on the battle field. She looked up once more and realized that it an enormous, horse-sized eagle—the Wildmage had clearly been experimenting with enlarged forms—and she held a harness containing Numair in her talons. They darted cleverly through a flock of Hurroks and he shot off another blast of magic.

The result, as far as Penelope could tell, was utter chaos. At least for the Immortals; a few broke ranks and fled and others temporarily lost their focus. Kel's attempt to force a split in their formation suddenly succeeded.

Penelope dove in behind the lady knight, going blade-to-blade with a centaur to keep him from attacking Kel's rear as they forged their way through the Immortal formation. She was completely unprepared for the Hurrok that dove suddenly at her, biting a chunk of flesh from her shoulder and knocking her from her horse. She only just managed to keep a hold of her sword as she rolled back to her feet.

There, she found herself pinned between the centaur and the hovering Hurrok. She swung at the centaur, opening a gash across his arm. But the Hurrok pounced again, slashing at her, before she could press her advantage against the centaur. His sword sliced a wound across her abdomen while she was fighting the Hurrok off.

A loose arrow hit the Hurrok's neck, disrupting its wing beats. Without stopping to calculate, Penelope thrust her sword quickly at its chest, plunging the blade into its heart. The Hurrok let out an agonized shriek and collapsed on top of her.

Penelope tried to crawl out from beneath the body, but a sudden wave of agony across her stomach stopped her. She lay still, sticky with blood—the Hurrok's and her own. Its wings obscured the sunlight and the air was thick and hot, difficult to breath. At least the body sheltered her from any further blows. Just my luck, she thought as she slid from consciousness, to miss out after we start winning.

MMMM

Neal looked up frequently from his writing to watch the ongoing battle through the window. It was too far off for him to make out any individual figures (aside from the Wildmage, whose loud arguments with Numair as they adjusted the harness had disturbed his work for some time) but he couldn't help watching and wriggling his fingers in frustration. He was useless at the moment; he wouldn't even be able to help with the healing for weeks.

And the girls were being noisy, frustrated by Yuki's refusal to let them play outside on such a pleasant fall afternoon. Nessaren and Kefira were playing chase behind his desk, emitting impossibly shrill shrieks whenever they tagged one another.

So, it was a miracle he'd managed to begin a short biography of Maeve, a common women who'd risen to lead the defeat of invading raiders nearly a thousand years before. The going hadn't been easy. There were only guesses for the years of her birth and death, a vague poem about her greatest battle, a few descriptions of her appearance, and an old scroll granting her noble status. There was nothing about her character or her personal life.

Still, Neal fell into his work and was able to breath some life into her story. He was, after all, uniquely qualified to make speculations about her personality. He'd trained under one of Tortall's greatest lady knights and beside another. And her was training a third (not that he could claim much credit for it, but Neal was convinced that Penelope was going to turn out well.)

"It looks like it's over," Yuki whispered, bending over his desk. "The Immortals are fleeing. I think we've won."

Neal's head shot up in astonishment. "But we'd only just begun to break up the…" He shook his head, realizing that it was sunset and the girls had fallen asleep on the couch. Where had the day gone?

He grabbed a spyglass from his desk, but he still couldn't make out any individual figures, just heaps of Immortal bodies and a few human ones. He sighed and stood so that he could hobble to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Yuki demanded.

"To check on things," Neal told her. "By which I mean to take advantage of this opportunity to spout orders and opinions in the healing wing without making any practical contribution."

MMMM

Dom was immensely grateful to find himself only a few feet from Kel—who was bleeding from a variety of small cuts and scrapes but otherwise whole and healthy—when the fighting wound to a close. It saved him the trouble of searching frantically and kept his heart from attempting painful acrobatics in his ribs.

"Dom?" she asked distractedly once he had kissed her, "you haven't seen Penelope have you?"

He frowned and shut his eyes, trying to remember the events that were already blurring in his mind. "No," he said finally, "not since just after the first charge." He held Kel's worried face still so that he could rub a bit of blood from her chin. "I'm sure someone has though," he assured her.

As it turned out, however, no one they questioned, including Raoul and Wyldon, had seen Penelope for hours. Dom watched Kel's face sink into a still miserable mask until he was called away by his own men to help identify the body of an Own soldier.

Next, he turned to give a merciful end to a slowly expiring Spridren and then another man asked for his help extracting a scrap of parchment—that looked to be a map—from the grip of a dead centaur.

It was there that he noticed a pair of boots sticking out from beneath a Hurrok carcass. His stomach jolted unpleasantly as he realized how small the feet were—probably not a man's—and he had to remind himself that they might have belonged to one of the Queen's Riders. Then the feet twitched slightly and Dom got two men to help him lift the Hurrok.

"Find Kel!" Dom ordered, dropping to his knees beside Penelope. She wasn't wearing chain mail and her clothing was soaked with blood. He bent over her head and heard a faint whisper of breath.

Then Lady Alanna shoved him out of the way, setting her hands upon Penelope's abdomen in a flare of purple light. Dom stood blinking beside Dalton as Alanna worked. Finally, he spotted Kel rushing towards them, wide-eyed with alarm, and he took her hand silently.

"Will she live?" Kel asked when Alanna finally sighed and lifted her head. Dalton bit his lip at the question and his fingers curled into fists.

"She'll give Neal grey hairs," Alanna muttered. "I've done by best to seal the wound cleaning, but she lost a great deal of blood before you found her."

It occurred to Dom that this wasn't a real answer to Kel's question but he thought it best to keep this realization to himself.

"Should she go to the infirmary?" Dalton asked quietly.

"Yes," Alanna said distractedly. "Why don't you take her? I doubt you'll be much help with anything else until she's seen to and I've other wounded to tend here."

Dalton didn't bother to wait for a stretcher, but simply lifted Penelope and began walking back towards the palace, murmuring into her ear all the while. Kel squeezed Dom's fingers tightly as she watched him walk away.

MMMM

It was very dark and Dalton had been telling her not to do something. She couldn't remember what though, everything hurt too much. And now there was another voice, giving another order.

"Swallow."

There was something warm and vaguely minty at her lips and she was thirsty. Swallowing didn't sound like such a bad idea after all. So she tried. It was horribly bitter but she didn't have the energy to spit it out. The liquid stayed insistently at her lips and she was forced through a long series of unpleasant swallows.

"That's foul," she gasped when at last it vanished.

"So's your infection," the voice—it was familiar, but oddly strained and weary sounding—told her. "I'll stir in some honey."

After several more—decidedly sweeter—sips, Penelope pealed her eyes open. She was in a narrow infirmary bed next to a glowing lamp. And Neal was setting an empty mug on a nearby table.

"Happy seventeenth birthday," he said, when he saw that she was properly awake.

"You're four days early," she told him, "but I'm still surprised you remembered."

"Actually," he replied. "I'm only a few hours early—it's tomorrow morning—and you'll have to excuse my eagerness. We've been very worried you weren't going to live to see it."

"Oh," Penelope said slowly. "Sorry about that." And then she remembered the Hurrok and the centaur. "How did the battle end?" she asked. And then another terrifying thought occurred to her. "Where's Dalton?" She tried to sit up and felt an unpleasant tearing across her stomach.

"You are impossible," Neal informed her, setting a hand on her shoulder to hold her in bed. "So is Dalton, for that matter, Alanna and I had to force a sleeping draught down his throat after he sat watching you breathe and sweat for three days. You can see him in the morning if you behave and lie still."

"Fine," Penelope whispered; she was already sleepy again. " Tell me what happened," she requested and then dozed through most of Neal's explanation.

"Did it not occur to you to wear armor or shout for help?" Neal demanded when he had finished.

"No one would have heard me," Penelope protested thickly. "And armor is too cursed—"

"Heavy," Alanna finished for her as she stepped in and set a hand on Penelope's forehead, sending her to sleep. "Besides, if she'd been wearing it, the extra weight under the Hurrok might have crushed her."

"When do I get to be right?" Neal asked.

"When you stop asking impudent rhetorical questions," Alanna told him sweetly.

MMMM

Penelope woke at midmorning and found that the infirmary was full of sunshine. Dalton was pushing a strand of hair away from her face and watching her intently.

"I know you think I'm pretty, but there's no need to stare," she muttered, a sure sign that she was feeling better.

"Actually," he told her seriously, "at the moment, your face is ghastly pale, your hair is tangled, and you've drooled in your sleep." He grinned. "But your general aliveness is very attractive," he added, helping her to sit up and setting a tray on her lap.

She realized suddenly that she was ravenously hungry and she worked her way through a bowl or porridge and a large plate of bread and jam while Dalton gave her a proper account of the battle's ending and her journey to the infirmary.

"So I didn't dream that you were talking to me," Penelope murmured, passing him her tray.

Dalton shrugged sheepishly and moved to sit beside her on the bed. "I ordered you not to die with our whole lives in front of us. Then I was horribly afraid it would backfire because you're so stubborn about being told what to do."

"I'm pretty stubborn about staying alive too," she assured him sleepily as he eyelids fluttered shut.

"That's what Alanna told Neal," he said, wrapping an arm around her as she drifted into sleep.

MMMM

"What are you writing?" Dom asked, looking up from the floor where he and Kefira were building a tower of blocks.

"A letter to Raoul," Kel said, signing it with a flourish.

"Concerning?"

"The loan of one his officers for the pages fall camp," Kel said, leaving the letter to dry and joining them on the floor.

Dom chuckled. "Well if you don't think you can supervise thirty of them in the wilderness by yourself then I suppose I'll have to come along and help."

"I'm quite capable of managing all thirty of them," Kel told him. "Fira is a another matter entirely." As if to illustrate this point their daughter stood and kicked down her tower, showering them with blocks. "I'm bringing you along to watch her while I'm busy teaching survival skills and preventing juvenile pranks," Kel explained. "We'll both have our hands full."

_There you go…everyone survived the onslaught (but Neal has a killer tension headache, poor thing.) Hope that satisfies your action cravings—fight scenes are definitely the hardest for me to write. Thanks for reading and feel free to drop a review! I'll try to get the next episode up soon but midterms are looming so it may not be till mid March. _


	21. Mother's Footsteps

Round one of spring midterms is over and it's time for fall camp! (There must be some kind of just logic to this somewhere, but I can't find it.) Anyway, reading all of your inspiring reviews made for lovely study breaks as I prepared my 20+ page ethnography portfolio. As always, the location and most of the cast belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Synopsis: Last episode, Numair and Daine defeated the Immortal mage, ending the second Immortal war. Penelope was seriously wounded during the battle and barely survived to celebrate her 17th birthday. This episode begins with a flashback but most takes place about three weeks after the last.

_"I'll go mad if I stay here any longer," Penelope said, throwing off her blankets. "Let's go find Neal." She climbed awkwardly out of bed and shoved her feet into slippers. Since there wasn't any other clothing available, Penelope decided to ignore the fact that she was still in her nightgown. _

_"You're not supposed to tire yourself," Dalton told her as he followed her out the door. "The healers all said you shouldn't get out of bed for a week." _

_"It's been two days," Penelope told him. "And you're excellent company, but another hour of staring at the ceiling would kill me." _

_"So would pulling open your wound and bleeding to death." _

_Penelope shrugged. "You won't let that happen. Besides, I want to see what kind of progress Neal's made on the book." _

_It seemed that Penelope's legs weren't as interested in Neal's _History of Warrior Women, _however, because they nearly gave out several paces from Neal's quarters. Penelope reached for the wall to keep herself from falling as a wave of dizziness hit her. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head. _

_"Dalton, I—" The request for help started shooting from her lips before she could swallow it back. _

_But he knew how much she hated needing help and he had an arm wrapped around her waist before she had to finish asking. _

_"I'm not going back to the infirmary," she told him once the corridor had stopped spinning._

_"Don't worry, I'm not going to fight with you," Dalton told her calmly. He brushed a bit of hair from her face and they continued walking towards Neal's door. "An argument might exhaust you in your current state," he added teasingly. "And Neal is closer." He took advantage of their closeness, turning his face sideways to kiss her. _

Penelope sighed loudly, pushing aside the memory and forcing herself to concentrate on her search for clues about Jessalin the Short's year of birth. She missed Dalton even more than she missed sword fighting. He had left two weeks before and Neal had told her that she could return to the practice court that afternoon if she promised "to be quiet and civilized and not stay too long or hurt herself."

"You don't have to stay," Neal told her.

Penelope shrugged, glancing up at his desk from the floor where she was working. "There's nothing else to do."

"True," Neal agreed wickedly. "Any luck?"

Penelope sighed again and glanced down at her notes. "She was born during a summer full moon, the year after a famine and before a flood."

"Sounds like the year 103," Neal said, quickly.

Penelope blinked. "You've been inside too long."

"Quite possibly," Neal agreed, stranding slowly—he could walk well enough now, but his limbs were still stiff. "Get your gear," he ordered. Penelope leapt up and, pausing only to enfold him in a tight, brief hug, launched herself out the door.

MMMM

"I think that's enough for today," Neal said, keeping his tone as calm and diplomatic as possible—no easy task when Penelope had him flat on his back with a sword point to his throat. "You don't want to overdo and set back your recovery."

"Just one more round?" Penelope pleaded, sounding rather like Kefira, as she stepped away to let Neal up.

Neal shook his head. "I'm sorry; you're a young lady of many talents but pouting and begging are not among them. I remain hardhearted."

"Let him win next time," Dom advised Penelope from where he stood watching Kel teach Kefira a pattern dance. "That way he'll be less likely to quit."

"Yes, but then he'll wind up with a fatally engorged ego."

Neal scowled at both of them as he collapsed on a bench. Kel left Kefira working with a small, bladeless glaive and came to sit beside him, followed by Daine and Tobe, who'd just come off the archery courts.

"Just a few more minutes," Kel called to Kefira. "We'll try to get her to bed early tonight," she whispered to Dom, "since we're going to have a long day tomorrow, starting camp."

"Early bedtimes always backfire, you know," Neal said, speaking deliberately loudly so that Kefira turned around to glance briefly at all of them. Kel and Dom glared at him and he shrugged innocently. "Well, it's true. Keep her up late and she'll fall asleep faster."

"And be cranky when we wake her up early tomorrow," Kel muttered back.

"That's what morning naps are for," Neal returned sweetly. He still enjoyed morning naps when he could get them and he considered himself an expert.

"Perfect," Dom snapped back in an undertone, "then she'll skip her afternoon nap, fall asleep too early, and wake up hours before dawn the next morning."

"Actually, maybe we should have had her take a nap this morning," Kel muttered thoughtfully.

"See," Neal said, "I'm capable of strategic parenting." He then had to pinch Penelope to get her to stop laughing—he was worried that her violent silent shaking might stretch her injury too much too soon.

"What you really ought to do," Daine said thoughtfully, "is to let her run around for an hour or so." All the parents turned to blink at her. " They're not so different from puppies," Daine explained. "You just wear them out and fill their bellies and tuck them someplace warm—actually sticking them in with a litter of puppies or kittens is ideal—and they nod right off."

Dom immediately stood, grabbed two small practice swords, and knelt beside Kefira, offering her a duel.

"Can I come?" Penelope asked suddenly. Kel turned towards her with raised eyebrows and an appraising expression. "It's just—I know we're not going back on the road again this fall, but I don't want to just sit waiting for midwinter. And I know I'm not up to much more than riding and light exercise, but I could help out a little."

"Perfect, I'd love to have some extra help," Kel said. "See that you're ready by the second morning bell."

"Wait," Neal said. "I absolutely forbid you to run off with my squire given your disastrous record for dragging her into danger."

"Well, that's settled then," Kel said. "You'll just have to come along as well so that you can personally supervise your seventeen-year-old squire."

MMMM

"I had no idea you were coming," Neal muttered to Wyldon, doing his best to keep his horror out of his voice. He glanced back and saw Penelope smirking at him as she maneuvered her horse so that she was riding just behind him and Wyldon. He could practically hear her thinking, _this'll be good. _

"I wasn't planning on it," Wyldon confessed stiffly, "but my squire pleaded very persistently." He sighed irritably. "And Greyson could do with some proper outdoor exercise."

"Oh," Neal said slowly, trying to block out his sudden vision of himself at Wyldon's age, worn into complete submission by a generation of obstinate squires foisted upon him by an even more obstinate lady knight. He shuddered, glanced sideways, saw that Wyldon was shuddering too and shuddered even more violently. He was doomed to share Wyldon's fate—expect he'd skip the years of rigid discipline and chauvinism and go straight to graying and balding—the gods were all heartless monsters.

A very soft giggle made him turn back but Selena and Penelope both raised their eyebrows and shrugged innocently at him.

"Go scout ahead," Wyldon ordered them, "and refill the spare waterskins".

To Neal's surprise they went without protest. After five long silent minutes beside Lord Wyldon it occurred to him that they had only obeyed so that they would be able to gossip about and laugh at their knight masters without detection.

MMMM

Kel blinked, unsure what had woken her but sure that something must have. She wouldn't have just wandered into wakefulness on her own when conditions were so perfect for sleeping. Her tent was dark and quiet and the night has was cool against her face, but she was warm with Dom's arm wrapped around her waist and Kefira curled against her chest. She would have been content to doze forever but she had woken suddenly. Kel lifted her head off Dom's other arm and listened carefully.

Just as she was lowering her head, convinced she was imagining things, she heard a very faint sob. Kel sighed and slid out from between Dom and Kefira. Wyldon would never have done such a thing, she knew, he probably wouldn't have woken even. But then, she reminded herself as she tugged on her coat, Wyldon wasn't a mother. Gently, Kel scooted Kefira up against Dom's chest to keep her warm. He stirred just long enough to mutter, "take care" and wrap a protective arm around their daughter. Kel glanced back at them once more and smiled before stepping out into the night.

There was another sob—still very quiet—as Kel began her walk towards the pages. She paused to glance at Neal and Wyldon's tents, where Penelope and Selena were sleeping beside their respective tent flaps. Penelope was curled into a fetal position and her face wore a troubled frown; Selena was stretched out with Greyson standing guard beside her. But another sob sounded from the pages and a loud grunt came from Wyldon's tent, and Kel tiptoed away quickly; she didn't want to have to explain herself to Wyldon.

Another sob, this one more pitiful than the others and this time Kel realized it came from Roland, the newest and youngest page. He was crying in his sleep and he was curled so tightly that he looked about six years old. Kel knelt beside him and brushed a bit of sweat-soaked hair from his face, wondering if she should wake him; he'd be embarrassed but at least his nightmare would be over.

Before she could decide, he woke with a tiny squeak, breathing and blinking rapidly.

"Hey," she whispered, helping him sit up. "It's all right."

He gasped, recognizing her, and began stuttering an apology.

"Shush," Kel soothed, grabbing the boy's water skin and helping him drink from it. "What's wrong? What's this all about?"

"I ke-keep remembering the attack when—" He stopped suddenly and screwed up his face in a very determined effort not to cry.

Kel gathered him into her arms—Wyldon would accuse her of coddling the boy but she didn't care, he wasn't all that much older than Fira, really, and he needed to feel loved and protected—as she remembered that his entire family had been killed in an Immortal attack over the summer. He been sent to begin training a year early because no one knew what else to do with him. Kel resolved to start checking up on Roland more often once they returned to the palace; never mind discipline, he needed taking care of.

"That's not a good thing to think about at night," Kel told him gently. "Maybe it would be better to wait and talk about it in the morning." She wet her handkerchief and wiped the tears from his face. "You'll feel better after you've gotten some real sleep," she promised, tucking him into his bedroll. "For now, just imagine your favorite place to go for picnics when you were little and pretend you're there."

Roland's lips twitched into a sleepy smile and he blinked once or twice at her before his eyes fluttered shut. Kel sat beside him until his breathing settled and she was sure he was sleeping peacefully. Then she stood and tiptoed back to her own tent.

Dom woke—like most soldiers, he was a light sleeper— and lifted his head when she came back in. Kel kissed him as she crawled back under the blankets and adjusted her body so that she and Dom were both curled protectively around their daughter.

"Where have you been?"

"Protecting and nurturing," Kel whispered back.

"You really don't know how to take time off, do you?" Dom chuckled softly. It was the last thing Kel remembered before she fell back asleep.

MMMM

Kel divided the pages into small groups the next morning and sent half of them off to practice mapmaking, while the other half held the sort of mock battle that had been introduced during her own page years with Neal, Wyldon, Dom, Selena, and Penelope acting as (allegedly impartial) judges. The fight was so noisy and chaotic that it was only when the small groups of pages began trickling back for lunch that Kel realized that Kefira was missing.

"I thought she was with you," Dom said worriedly when she asked. And Neal claimed that he'd thought Selena was taking care of her when they found him.

"Well, she can't have gone too far," Wyldon said in a gruff attempt at kindness that revealed his lack of experience with three-year-olds. "Perhaps this would be a good day to have them all practice tracking," he added a few moments later, sounding genuinely concerned.

This was a reasonable suggestion, but Kel was having trouble forcing back her panic. She didn't want to wait for the rest of the pages to return to begin her search.

"We'll start now," Penelope offered, tugging at Selena's arm, " there don't seem to be any tracks but we can run a big loop around the camp and see if we spot anything." Kel swallowed and nodded gratefully and the two squires jogged off into the woods.

MMMM

Kefira scrambled eagerly onto yet other log, following the unhappy mewling that had called her away from camp. She fell off, scraping her elbow, which didn't hurt enough to stop her, and climbed back onto her feet. The sound was louder now and she must be getting close.

She took a few more steps and then crawled into a brambly patch, ignoring the way it scratched her hands. And that's where she found them. The kittens were so small that even Kefira could have lifted them easily. There were four of them and they were crying desperately and trying to climb up the sides of their next. There was no Mama cat in sight and Kefira had the sudden and terrible thought that none would be coming back. The kittens were all alone, so she would have to stay with them until her Mama found her. Her Mama would help her with the kittens; she knew how to take care of everything.

Kefira stretched out so that her legs extended out of the brambles and dropped a hand into the nest so that she could stroke the tiny bodies. The kittens nibbled affectionately at her fingers and she laughed. She lay there growing slowly cold and hungry, but she didn't mind; she was sure someone would find her soon.

MMMM

"Go ahead, Mindelan," Wyldon told her. "I'm quite capable of watching the others get back and setting them to work. And you are too distracted to manage it. Go find her."

"Yes, sir," Kel said, resisting the urge to bow as though she were ten years old again.

Wyldon suppressed a chuckle as he shook his head. "Might as well make myself useful now that I'm here."

"You're always useful," Kel muttered and then shocked both of them by hugging him tightly. He patted her back awkwardly and cleared his throat. Then Kel dashed off, leaving him blinking in recovery.

She sprinted off in the direction that Penelope and Selena had taken, quickly catching up with them.

"We think we're on the right track," Selena explained, pointing to a tiny boot print.

Kel nodded in relief and was just about to croak out her thanks when a small falcon dove at her, apparently out of nowhere. Kel threw up a hand reflexively, trying to stop it from hitting her hand. Though completely devoid of leather markings, it landed expertly in her glove. Kel found she wasn't surprised when its beak began to shift, transforming into a mouth.

A moment later, she found herself staring at Daine's very small face.

"She's fine," Daine said quickly. "You'll want to turn right here and head up that side path." Kel obeyed instantly and Daine continued her explanation as Kel carried her along the trail. "A crow friend of mine told me that there was a two-legger child loose in the woods and I didn't know she was yours but I came out to check on her and…anyway it's a good thing you've brought your cloak with you."

"What—" Kel began anxiously.

Daine cut her off before she could finish. "She's fine." Then her tiny lips twitched into an amused smile and she refused to say anything more.

MMMM

"What do you mean "they're all yours"?" Dom demanded as he dropped onto the sofa in his family's suite.

Daine laughed as stretched her legs out across their rug. " I mean that I'm finished healing all of their little infections and I've found Splotches to nurse them but they're very attached to your daughter and they're not going to settle with anyone else, hence, they're all yours." Daine gestured across the rug to where Kefira lay curled around the four kittens under the benevolent supervision of the large plump calico known as Splotches. "And I very much doubt that they'll be the last."

Kel laughed and lowered herself onto the sofa beside Dom. "Not if she takes after her mother."

Dom let out a resigned sigh that turned into a chuckle when he heard on of the kittens sneeze. "We're going to have our own menagerie by the time she's ten, aren't we?"

"Don't worry," Daine assured him. "The more creatures you find, the more you have room for. It's like magic."

"Besides, it's an excellent way to learn responsibility," Kel pointed out.

"You can't expect her to grow up save the world," Dom teased.

"Of course not," Kel said breezily, "but saving kittens is a good start."

Dom laughed and settled an arm around her shoulders. She was right, of course.

_Spring break starts tomorrow so I'll try to have another episode ready soon. Thanks for reading and feel free to review!_


	22. Conversation and Contemplation

_Thanks to all my lovely reviewers and as always: cast and setting belong to Tamora Pierce._

_Synopsis: Alanna and Dalton are out and about in Tortall (as is Dom.) Neal and Penelope are still at the palace. Kefira saved four kittens at fall camp in the last episode. This episode takes place a month or so after the last. _

"I'll follow you in a minute," Penelope called to Neal as he ducked into the supply shed. "I want to go through another round." The court was nearly empty—only Marcel, another squire from her year was there—and she wanted to take advantage of the unexpectedly warm early winter weather and the uncrowded court.

Unfortunately, she realized that Marcel was watching her closely, scrutinizing her body as she fired. She had a number of unfond memories of Marcel—mostly fights from her page years—though she hadn't seen him in months. He was the son of a staunch conservative and he and Penelope had, as Neal put it, "irreconcilable philosophical differences." Penelope imagined that the target before her was Marcel's head and fired off another three shots; each landed almost dead center.

"Nicely done," Marcel called, striding towards her confidently.

"Thanks," Penelope muttered shortly, hoping he would leave soon. She had no such luck.

"Really," Marcel continued. "You've impressed all of us these past few years."

Penelope narrowed her eyes and adjusted her shirt so that her small breasts were hidden. There were men—kind, fatherly, respectful, well-intentioned men like Lord Raoul—who could get away with saying such things to her because they actually meant them and they didn't scrutinize her body when they spoke to her. But Marcel wasn't one of them.

"Grown into quite the little warrior, you have," he added. "You seem to have made a place for yourself here." He reached over and would have grabbed her shoulder if she hadn't ducked and spun away.

"Easy," he said. "Dalton's a decent, generous fellow. I'm sure he wouldn't mind lending you out for an afternoon or evening. And we all know he's been sharing with Queenscove for years."

Penelope forced her face to soften even as her toes curled with rage. "Yes," she said, keeping her voice light and stripping of her gloves as she spoke, "Dalton is a decent fellow. He certainly wouldn't mind my devoting an afternoon to your improvement." She smiled flirtatiously as she leaned towards him and slapped his wrist with one of her gloves in the age-old challenge to a duel.

She barely let grab his sword before she swung at him. Traditionally, Penelope ought to have allowed him to name the time, place, and weapons for the fight, but Penelope reasoned that since those ruled had been written by and for men, she didn't have play by them. Penelope took advantage of his astonishment and disarmed him with a few elegant sweeps Lady Alanna had taught her. Then she knocked her to the ground and held her sword point against his chin to continue the conversation.

"However, Dalton and Neal are irrelevant at the moment." Penelope smiled coldly. "I would say that this is the more pressing matter." She nicked his chin lightly with her blade. "I was tempted to carve my initials, but I don't think you deserve them. And this way you can tell your fiancée—Lady Helena is it?—that you cut yourself shaving."

Marcel glowered at her and attempted to spit—a brave but stupid effort that failed miserably, leaving a pool of saliva beside the corner of his mouth.

Penelope withdrew her sword in disgust and scooped up her bow before storming off. "Be glad I'm in a generous mood today," she called over her shoulder.

Neal met her outside the supply shed and she tried to smile cheerfully as though nothing had happened.

"It's hardly soundproof, you know," he said, falling into step beside her. "I heard most of it—enough to surmise a distasteful proposition—and then I couldn't resist watching your tidy little victory. Alanna would have been proud of that one."

"So it wouldn't be ignoble of me to gloat then?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, I'll worry about you if you don't gloat. It isn't healthy to hold in all that glee. Besides, Marcel isn't going to be bragging about this fight, so it's our responsibility to spread the news."

MMMM

Kel enjoyed hearing the story from Neal that afternoon, particularly since it concerned squires and therefore didn't call for any disciplinary intervention on her part. She'd had enough of that lately, trying to stop a few third year bullies from hazing Roland without appearing to give him special attention. And Penelope's victory distracted her temporarily from the fact that the king was planning to join her for dinner that evening.

He used to come and eat with Wyldon all the time, Kel reminded herself as she changed for supper. But Jonathon hadn't often eaten with her since her appointment as training master and their meals together tended to be uneasy and silent. And Wyldon had never had to arrange care for his four-year-old daughter during special occasion meals—something Kel had yet to manage for the evening since Daine was away—traveling with Tobe—and Neal and Yuki were entertaining guests of their own.

A knock interrupted Kel's thoughts and she opened her door to find Garret of Greenwater, the king's squire, shuffling his feet in the corridor.

"The king sent me to attend to Kefira for the evening," he told her.

Kel blinked in surprise, astonished that the king had thought of such a thing. Garret had grown taller since his years as a page—though he was still scrawny—but his good-natured smile hadn't changed at all.

"Are you sure you can manage?" Kel asked as Kefira abandoned her block tower and trotted over to peek at him. All four kittens came to swarm around his legs.

Garret smiled. "I've five sisters, lady knight, three of them younger." And without further ado, he knelt on the floor to introduce himself to Kefira, winking at her as he offered his hand.

When Kel left a few minutes later, Garret was entertaining Kefira with a single handkerchief, performing a variety of magic tricks that had her so fascinated she barely noticed Kel's departure. Kel wondered how she'd managed to overlook Garret over the last few years and reminded herself to thank the king for his presence.

MMMM

"Actually," Jon told her, once they had seated themselves, "you have Thayet to thank for that. I'm afraid I'm not much good at that sort of thing."

Kel nodded and did her best to form a sort of sympathetic chuckle through a mouthful of food. She wasn't sure how to respond to this kind of confession and their conversation trailed off before it had even begun.

Jon took a sip of wine and then sighed. "We do run into this awkward silence often, don't we, Keladry?"

Kel looked up from her plate and saw that the king's blue eyes were twinkling. She laughed softly before she could stop herself and he answered with a quiet chuckle.

"I spent a long time blaming you for Alanna's prolonged absence," Jon muttered. "And I don't think you've ever quite forgiven me for letting Wyldon put you on probation."

"I've forgiven Wyldon," Kel protested, realizing as she spoke that this was not the same thing as forgiving the king. She glanced down at her plate again. "I think I decided early on to respect you without liking you."

"I should be flattered. Many of my subjects like me without respecting me." Jon shrugged. "I am sorry for the difficulties you have faced here. Alanna was—she was a special case—she's always been a special case—and none of us foresaw the challenges you encountered."

Kel laughed, suddenly more at ease with Jon that she had ever felt before even if this apology came years too late. "It's alright, sire, I think I've gone a ways towards restoring the balance as training master."

Jon nodded. " One of your lady squires is already becoming a legend in her own right. I hear that her latest exploit was to survive being crushed by a dying Hurrok."

"That was the next to last," Kel said quickly.

Jon raised his eyebrows and Kel hesitated only a moment before telling him about Penelope's afternoon duel.

Jon frowned. "She shouldn't have to deal with that sort of—"

" 'Shouldn't' changes nothing, sire," Kel cut in frankly. "She faces that sort of thing daily, like sore muscles or bruised knuckles. And nothing you and I can say will change that reality."

"I think she knows that," Jon said slowly. "And she's taken matters into her own hands."

Kel shrugged in agreement. "There's nothing like fear of humiliation."

Jon nodded wisely. "Almost as effective as castration in the minds of young noblemen and less likely to reduce the population."

There was another long pause in the conversation because of them were laughing too hard to speak. Kel decided she'd been too busy respecting her king to get to know Jon himself and regretted her mistake. They lingered together over dessert and tea as he described his exploits during the early days of his reign. And when Kel returned to her suite, she found the king's squire asleep on her sofa with Kefira asleep in his lap and a kitten hanging over his shoulders.

MMMM

Kel met Tobe at the stables the next evening when he returned with Daine. She pulled him into a rough hug—which he tolerated with a laugh—surprised to see that he was now as tall as she was. He was all lean muscle and long bones and messy hair. And when had he gotten so handsome and so confident?

"Hey," he said, "do you have food for me upstairs?"

Kel grinned and rolled her eyes, waving at Daine. "Of course."

"Lucky," Daine muttered. "I have two cranky children and an even crankier dragon waiting for me." She sighed thoughtfully. "And a handsome mage," she added in a gentler tone.

"You're the lucky one then," Kel said, waving farewell to the Wildmage as Tobe threw his saddlebags over his shoulders.

Kel was silent as they walked back to their—though Tobe spent fewer and fewer nights there—room. Tobe talked quietly, describing a bandit attack and an encounter with a bear who'd managed to get his nose stuck in a beehive.

"The honey got everywhere though, made a mess of the horses, and then the bear tried to lick us all clean—"

Kel spotted Roland, walking slowly and weighed down by a heavy stack of books, as they passed the library entrance and she gestured for Tobe to be silent.

"Here," she said, lifting half of the books from Roland. "Tobe's just gotten back and we're going to have tea in our rooms. Why don't you come join us?" The boy looked like he could us a little extra nourishment and Kel was determined to give it to him.

Roland hesitated, clearly tempted but afraid to accept an offer from such an authority figure.

"Come on," Tobe said, "she always writes letters and things in the evening. You can keep me company while she's busy. We'll play chess or something."

Roland nodded slowly and gave a tiny smile. Within minutes, Kel had served tea and the boys were plowing their way through two thick slabs of cake as well as a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. Kefira woke when she heard their voices and wandered out to sit in Tobe's lap and nibble at a biscuit, watching with wide eyes as they set up the chess board. Her kittens climbed onto the table and threatened to knock over the pieces with paws and tails.

Smiling Kel retreated to the relative quiet of her desk to write letters to the parents of a few pages—a task made painful by the fact that she had no such letter to write for Roland—and read a long letter for Dom. It described his current duties on the Northern border and detailed the exploits of men they both knew, but the ending made Kel frown.

_I've been thinking—dreaming really, _Dom had written, _about retirement. More than anything I want to wake up beside you every morning and to watch Kefira grow so that I'm not astonished by how tall she is every time I come home and see her. _

Kel laughed at this. She was sometimes surprised by how tall her daughter was after an hour's absence. She shook her head and kept reading.

_I don't relish the thought of a desk job, but I'm going to look for one when I come home for midwinter. _

"Don't," Kel whispered. Tears spilled into her eyes as she read the last few lines.

_Tell Kefira I will be home soon and take care of yourself. _

Kel tied her handkerchief into multiple knots as she reread Dom's letter, doing her best to keep a cheerful expression on her face for Tobe and Kefira and Roland—who was actually laughing now that he had a full stomach and a kitten in his lap. But it wasn't easy and the handkerchief was soon in shreds (a situation that delighted one of the kittens who came to bat it back and forth when she dropped it).

She was tempted to write back to Dom but she didn't think a letter would reach him before he returned for midwinter. And then, she had no idea what she wanted to say to him. A part of her wanted to beg him to stay, to find a position that would let him live with her at the palace. But she had already given up her dreams of traveling and she didn't want Dom to be forced to as well; she was vaguely afraid he'd come to resent her for it and she knew they couldn't really afford for his pay to be reduced.

Roland's effusive thanks tore Kel away from her worries and she smiled warmly at him as he left, surprised to see that he'd beaten Tobe at chess. Tobe congratulated the page and walked him back to his room, helping to carry his books. Meanwhile, Kefira had fallen asleep at the table and had to be carried to her cot and tucked in with all four kittens and their foster mother. Kel finished cleaning up the tea things as Tobe returned.

"It was good of you take him in like that," Kel said as Tobe flopped onto the sofa. "But you didn't have to let him win you know."

Tobe blinked at her. "I didn't," he said quickly, "the kid's smart and just because I can sometimes beat you doesn't make me an expert." He deflected the pillow Kel threw at him and stretched out with a sigh. "I remember what it's like to be nine and alone and unhappy. I was an orphan once, you may recall."

Kel's heart gave a tiny lurch at the word "once" and her hand reached out of its own accord to ruffle Tobe's hair. "It's still good of you."

Tobe nodded thoughtfully and they sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm going to join the Riders next year," Tobe said abruptly.

Kel blinked and turned towards him in surprise.

"If that's alright with you," he added in a softer tone.

Kel smiled at him. "You don't have to ask, you know."

"I know, but I thought I should tell you."

Kel smiled. "You do have to come back and whenever possible," she told him. "We'll miss you. And you have to write often."

"Well, seeing as you went to the trouble of teaching me how…," Tobe muttered agreeably.

"Good," said Kel. "It'll be worth the effort then."

"Most things you do are," Tobe told her. He stood and kissed her forehead on his way to bed.

And when had he gotten so wise? Kel wondered as she made a final round through the sitting room, folding up Dom's letter and blowing out the light.

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. I'll be serving up a healthy dollop of midwinter fluff some time next week to make up for this shorter episode. _


	23. Midwinter Miracle

_As always, cast and scenery belong to Tamora Pierce. _

_Synopsis: Last episode Penelope got into a fight with a conservative squire and won; Penelope made a kind of peace with the king and invited Roland in for an evening of chess; and Dom wrote to tell Kel that he is considering retirement from the Own. This episode takes place a few weeks, starting two days before midwinter. _

Kel waited up in her sitting room, wrapped in a blanket with two of the kittens sitting in her lap. She glanced guiltily at the door to her daughter's room every few minutes. Kefira had begged to stay up and wait for her father but Kel's sensibility had won out and she'd sent her daughter to bed. Tobe was away with one of the Rider groups, training with them now so that he would be able to bypass summer training and spend another few months working with Daine. She'd actually begun to nod off when the door open quietly.

Kel blinked and leapt to her feet, spilling the kittens across the sofa where they mewed indignantly.

"Goodness they've grown," Dom muttered as he lifted one to make room for himself beside Kel on the sofa. Kel raised the edge of her blanket and wrapped it around Dom's shoulders as well. "Has she named them yet?"

Kel chuckled. "After the seasons. The orange-tabby crawling into your lap is Autumn and this one with the snowflake-shaped spot is Winter—though given the messes she makes I think it should have been Blizzard." She settled her head against his shoulder and they sat together in silence, watching the fire die out.

Eventually, Dom gently brushed away the kittens and pulled Kel—half-asleep—off the sofa. "Did you get my last letter?" he asked hesitantly.

Kel nodded and followed him into their bedroom. "Dom," she whispered, "please tell me you've changed your mind.

He just sighed.

"I'm not worth giving up your career for—you've worked hard for your position—and I can't ask you to just walk away from all of that for me. It's not as though I made that kind of sacrifice for you."

"No," Dom muttered, running his thumb over her cheekbone, "just for our daughter."

"That's different," Kel said, dropping her gaze. "I'm managing all right without you here."

Dom reached over and lifted her chin. "Managing doesn't mean happy."

"Trapped doesn't mean happy either," Kel snapped, angry with the helpless tears that sprang into her eyes. "You should be doing something meaningful, not just copying and drudgery."

Dom grabbed her shoulders suddenly. "Has it occurred to you that my being here with you is more meaningful that my beheading Immortals and tracking down bandits?" He gazed fiercely at her for a minute. "It's my decision, Mindelan."

Kel blinked quickly and let out her breath slowly to keep from sobbing. "Fine, but at least give it a few more days' thought and tell Lord Raoul in person before you resign. He's invited us to a little midwinter gathering tomorrow night. Lady Alanna's getting in tomorrow afternoon and Daine and Neal will be there."

Dom nodded slowly and ran his hands down her arms until they grasped her elbows. "Good. It's midwinter. We shouldn't be thinking about this tonight."

Kel stepped forward to kiss him. "We shouldn't be thinking about anything tonight."

THE NEXT DAY

"Ready?" Dalton whispered, interlacing his fingers with Penelope's as they approached the door to the Chamber of Ordeal. The chapel was still empty but they didn't have much time because servants would soon be coming in to clean it in preparation for the next day's ceremonies.

"No, I'll never be ready," Penelope said honestly. But she hoped the dread that filled her gut since Dalton had arrived and she'd begged him to come to the Chamber with her would be worse than actually touching the door, so she added, "on three then."

They counted off together in a solemn whisper before setting their free palms against the door. Penelope shuddered as the room went suddenly dark and cold. Then hot again because she was trapped under the Hurrok once more, completely unable to move. Only this time she could see out from underneath it, so she had a perfect view of Neal and Dalton being beaten to death by dark-clothed swordsmen.

And then, just as suddenly, it was over, and Dalton was running desperate fingers across her face and she was reaching out to grab his shoulders. They each needed proof that the other was alive. The vision had looked so real, sounded real, smelled real, even tasted real—Penelope shuddered and swallowed back bile. Dalton's fingers found her pulse and he left them there, curled gently around her neck.

She gripped his shoulders to pull him closer and he winced, cursing suddenly.

"You're hurt," she said, loosening her grip as she stepped closer. "Why didn't you tell me? We shouldn't have come down here."

"It's nearly healed already," Dalton told her. "We were ambushed by a few archers last week. Alanna took care of it right away." Penelope ignored him, undoing a few buttons on her shirt and pushing it away until she found the wound; it was deep but nearly healed as he had told her.

"A few inches lower and it would have hit your heart," Penelope muttered.

Dalton answered by pulling her closer so that her cheek rested against his chest. She listened as his heartbeat settled back into a steady pace. "It was just a stupid vision," he told her, but his voice was shaking badly. "I think the Chamber shows us what we can least bear to see."

Penelope blinked, spilling tears onto his shirt, and nodded. She stepped back and took his hand once more. "Let's leave then."

MMMM

Dom had to weave through a troop of small girls, all wearing bright dresses and wild curls—and in the case of Daine's daughter, a long plumed tail—in order to make his way to Lord Raoul. Buri took one look at Dom's face and kissed Raoul's cheek before darting off so they could speak privately.

"I need to resign," Dom said. He hadn't meant to put it so bluntly but he'd never been good at speeches of this sort.

"Have you spoken with Kel about this?"

Dom sighed. "She's not happy about it. She told me I had to talk to you first."

Raoul nodded. "And do you _want _to resign?"

"I want—I—it's complicated—I want to be here with them—for them."

Raoul sighed and settled back in his chair, dropping his feet onto a footstool. "You're not leaving me any choice then. I shall be forced to continue with my original plan to promote you to second-in-command of the King's Own."

Dom blinked. "You can't—I couldn't—"

"It will mean heaps of paperwork and loads of headaches over training and recruitment and you'll still see a few days on the battlefield every so often, but I'm reasonable certain you'll be able to manage it." Raoul settled his shoulders in an oddly triumphant slump. "You'll be able to stay here for months at a time instead of weeks and travel for weeks at a time instead of months. And I think Kel will approve."

Dom nodded, still in a sort of daze.

Raoul smiled beneficently. "Did I mention the promotion comes with a substantial raise?"

MMMM

"I can't believe it will be us next year," Dalton murmured, wrapping his hands around a mug. They were sitting in Penelope's room, in the squires' wing, drinking tea beside her tiny desk. Somehow, after their experience at the Chamber door, neither of them had felt like joining any of the festive midwinter gatherings that had dispersed throughout the palace.

Penelope nodded and took a sip of tea. "I have no idea where I'm going to go when I finish—there's no point in my going back to Proudcreek, I'll inherit the estate but Aunt won't let me manage anything there while she's alive—it's like everything leads up to becoming a knight and then just stops."

"We could always stay here a few years," Dalton reminded her, "and enlist in the King's service."

Penelope felt a wide grin crack across her face. "Yes, _we_ could," she said. "We'd get to travel that way."

"I'd like to spend some time on the Northern border, perhaps," Dalton muttered absently, setting down his tea, "we'd get to see all the places Mindelan and the others talk about. We should have a little adventure to celebrate surviving seven and a half years of madness."

She sighed quietly. "It has been madness, but I think I'm going to miss it—well not the gossip and the death threats—but I will miss most of it."

"Me too. I'll miss it, except for leaving you." He stood and bent to kiss her. "Speaking of which, it's late. I should wish you goodnight."

Penelope stood and followed him halfway to her open door.

"Stay." The invitation, half-question, half-command, fell from her lips before he stepped out.

Dalton turned around and swept his eyes over her. "Are you sure?"

She quirked her lips into a shy smile. "When am I not?"

Dalton remembered a time when she hadn't been sure of anything, but he realized now that her uncertainties seem to have died away over the past few months. He glanced back at the open door and then stepped slowly towards her, eyes blazing and hands trembling. "I thought you wanted to wait until—"

"I know I'm going to win my shield next winter," she said, untying her braid. "And I know that I'll have earned it fairly. I know I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I know our lives are dangerous and I don't know if either of us will be alive next year." She shook her head and dropped her face so that her hair fell softly around her face, gleaming in the candlelight.

Dalton took another step forward and lifted her chin with one of his hands, brushing her hair away from her cheeks with the other. "I don't want to leave. I know neither of us should be alone after what we saw."

She kissed him on her way to the door. "And we know my reputation is a long lost cause—" she smiled cheekily—"and so is yours for that matter" she added. Dalton smiled at the giddy jump in his heart as she locked the door with a quick deliberate motion.

MMMM

"How come we have to carry the heavy ones?" Neal muttered to Dom as they lifted their sleeping daughters off the rug to carry them home. Yuki was carrying his much lighter son and Numair's daughter had transformed into a highly portable squirrel. "This doesn't quite seem fair."

Kel chuckled quietly and a made a show of folding her empty arms, but Daine nodded in agreement.

"He's right, you know" she said, stepping over to Numair and handing him their son to carry. "You're not carrying your fair share and it's certainly not fair for me to walk home when I've been up longer than any of you." With that, she changed to a tabby cat and sprang onto Numair's shoulders to drape herself across his neck, purring loudly.

Numair chuckled softly and waved a sleepy farewell at them before disappearing down the corridor.

Neal blinked at Yuki, who raised her eyebrows back at him. Then they too turned around a corner and disappeared, leaving Kel and Dom alone together.

"Kel," Dom whispered as he shifted Kefira into a more comfortable hold in his arms, "I'm staying."

Kel frowned suspiciously. "Staying here or staying in the Own?'

"Both," Dom said. He watched Kel's face carefully as she drew her eyebrows together for a moment's thought and then grinned in delight.

"I suppose we were due for another midwinter miracle," she whispered.

MMMM

For the first night in many weeks, Penelope did not dream of crumpling Hurroks or Sir Kendal's impalement. She woke only once, chilled when Dalton shifted away from her. But he was only grabbing a blanket, which he wrapped about both of them. "Go back to sleep," he murmured into her hair, and she slept until just before dawn.

It seemed that she and Dalton opened their eyes at the exact same moment. They blinked sleepily at each other before untangling their limbs, stretching, and resettling themselves in each other's arms.

"Happy midwinter," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

Penelope smiled. "I'd forgotten."

"I only remembered just—"

There was a loud knock at the door and they both stiffened and sat up. "Don't bother answering, Penelope," Lady Alanna said from outside. They glanced at each other, blushing. "But if you should have the good fortune to encounter Dalton before I do this morning, kindly remind him that one cannot learn Shang fighting in bed and that I expect to see him on the practice courts in ten minutes time even if it is midwinter." Her footsteps marched away briskly.

"She's teaching you Shang fighting?" Penelope asked enthusiastically and then she closed her eyes as she considered the rest of the message. "I don't want how she knows," she muttered.

Dalton laughed. "She's probably checked my room already. And it wouldn't have taken a great leap of logic to figure out where else I might be." He reached over and tweaked her nose gently before sighing and reaching for his clothes. "I'd better go meet her now if we want her to remain amenable to this sort of arrangement."

Penelope nodded reluctantly and began to dress herself.

MMMM

Neal coughed quietly as Dalton stepped away from Penelope's door. Dalton cursed silently and wondered whether or not Neal had already consumed his morning tea—he hoped he'd had just enough to be genial but not enough to be clearheaded. He willed a blush away from his cheeks as he met Neal's eyes.

Neal merely raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in a curious manner that had Dalton fighting the urge to squirm or run away. Neal definitely seemed to expect something.

"I love her," he muttered, but got no response from Neal. "We'll be careful. We won't get caught. She's nearly dressed; she'll be on the practice courts in a few minutes. Please don't kill me, Queenscove. That would make for a very dismal midwinter celebration."

Neal chuckled darkly. "Don't worry. I'm reasonable certain this was her idea and it's none of my business anyway." He shrugged and pulled on his cloak. "I'd threaten to kill you if you break her heart but I'm sure she'll be able to manage that on her own."

Dalton nodded.

"So," Neal continued. "Make sure she takes care of herself and I'll do my best to make her guilty and miserably in the unlikely event that she should hurt you." Neal extended his hand and Dalton shook it. "And one more thing," Neal told him, "have her check to see that the hall is clear before you leave tomorrow morning. You wouldn't want to shock Mindelan or Wyldon as they were walking through."

Dalton nodded, blushing, and hurried off, but Neal stood waiting outside his squire's door until she opened it. He couldn't decide whether he were too old to manage this sort of thing or not old enough to handle it.

"You listened through the door didn't you?" he said as soon as she emerged.

Penelope shrugged, blushing slightly and biting her lip.

"Good. That should spare us both some agonizing embarrassment. We'll do this quickly and avoid eye contact. Here goes: don't get pregnant, don't break his heart, and don't ever tell Wyldon or Mindelan about this conversation."

Penelope lifted her head. "What conversation, sir?"

Neal found himself grinning and Penelope stepped forward and hugged him. "Happy midwinter," he told her.

"That wasn't so bad. You've gotten calmer over the years, better at this sort of thing," Penelope muttered, stepping off towards the practice courts. "Your daughter is going to thank me for that one day," she called over her shoulder.

Neal blanched and decided it wasn't too early to switch from tea to mulled wine.

_I hope you enjoyed a spring dose of midwinter fluff. I'm hoping to have the next episode up in about a week and a half (assuming no unforeseen midterm craziness) and we'll see how Dom adjusts to home life… Remember reviews brighten my day and give you good karma._


	24. Kittens and Wings

_Glad to hear that you didn't mind an unseasonal midwinter—although I seemed to have jinxed myself into unseasonal snow. As always, cast and set belong to Tamora Pierce; the crew are my minions. _

_Synopsis: Amidst a flurry of midwinter fluff, Dom was promoted and will now be spending the majority of his time at the palace with his hardworking wife, his precocious daughter, and her four unruly kittens. This episode takes place about two weeks after the last. Alanna and Dalton have already departed and Tobe will soon return._

Dom scowled down at the inventory list before him and ran a hand through his hair. "This isn't working," he muttered.

Kel looked up from the letter she was writing and blinked at him across the paper-scattered desk. "No," she agreed quietly, "it's not." She wasn't sure where her work ended and his began.

Spring—a fluffy grey kitten who resembled a tiny rain cloud—choose that moment to leap onto the desk, overturning an inkwell. Dom cursed in frustration, which frightened her into racing across the desk and leaving inky paw prints across his accounts and Kel's letters. Dom grabbed Spring by the scruff of her neck and dropped her onto the floor, earning a reproachful look from Kel. He sighed, wishing he'd been gentler and balled his hands into fists.

Kel meanwhile had calmly righted the inkwell and was doing her best to direct the flow of ink away from their papers. But her letter to Lord Devon was soaked and Dom's stable inventory was a hopeless trail of paw prints. Dom reached out to help her and discovered the ink on his thumb when it left a smudge across another letter. They sighed in unison and wound up glaring at each other.

"I think we should consider separate desks," Dom said finally.

Kel shot him a relieved smile. "I think that would be infinitely preferably to separate beds," she muttered, as she gathered the ruined pages into a pile. "But it's also time to invest in heavier inkstands." She dove suddenly to the floor and swept up Spring before she could track her inky paws across the rug.

Dom grabbed a rag, wet it, and cleaned the squirming kitten's feet while Kel tried to keep her from ripping apart his shirt. "This is harder than I thought it would be," Dom confessed.

Kel didn't think he meant cleaning the cat, but she wasn't sure whether he was referring to his new position in the Own or adjusting to full time life at home. "You've only been at it a week," she reminded him. "It will get easier." She disentangled Spring's claws from his shirt and shooed the kitten away so that she could pull Dom into a hug. "You can probably get Lord Osric's old desk—he's retiring to his pear orchard and he isn't taking any palace furniture with him."

MMMM

Getting Lord Osric's desk into their sitting room, however, was far from easy. It was solid oak and massively built and it took both of them to carry it down the corridor. And then it wouldn't fit through their door.

They had to flip it onto its side and push it through at an angle. This wouldn't have presented too much of a difficulty if Spring had twined herself through Dom's ankles just as he was trying to pull the desk in. He tripped and the desk thudded to the floor.

Neal poked his head through their doorway just as Kel was helped Dom off the floor. "I'm sure that the citizens of Tortall would be glad to know that two of the realm's finest warriors were defeated by a desk and a kitten."

Penelope stuck her head in as well. "We'll it's not as though we're attacked by armies of desks and kittens very often." She stepped inside and helped Kel to right the desk and carry it to the corner. "And it is a particularly heavy desk," she grunted.

"And a particularly troublesome kitten," Dom muttered as he collapsed on the sofa to rest his bruised arm.

"Which is why I, in my infinite wisdom, didn't volunteer to help," Neal informed them. He did, however, use his gift to heal the bruise on Dom's elbow.

"You'll have to excuse his manners," Penelope said as she and Neal accompanied Kel's family towards the dining hall for lunch. "He's had a trying morning."

"He has a trying morning every morning," Kel muttered.

"This one was especially difficult," Neal said shortly, as they all took seats beside Daine and Numair.

Kel raised her eyebrows and glanced at Penelope, who was only too happy to oblige her curiosity.

"Nessaren woke him up to ask a technical question about puncture wounds," she explained. "Apparently, he left out one of his medical texts and she stumbled across it and picked it up for a little light morning reading."

Kel didn't even bother to smother her grin as she watched Neal shudder.

"No one should have to think about puncture wounds before they've been fortified with a mug of tea," Neal remarked, grimacing. "I didn't think she was reading anything beyond children's rhymes and then she came in asking about the most effective method for cleansing subsurface infections." He glared at Kel and Penelope as though this were all their fault. "Why couldn't I have nice normal children?"

Numair glanced over at Neal and remarked mildly, "but _yours_ are normal, Queenscove."

"They're just not average or typical," Daine added as Neal twisted up his lips in search of a reply.

"Think how dull that would make life," Penelope put in cheerfully.

Kefira, meanwhile, shoveled the last of her vegetables into her mouth and picked up her bread. "I'm going to meet the queen for glaive practice this afternoon and I want to be punctual," she announced. She briefly wrapped an arm around Kel's neck and planted a kiss on Dom's cheek before trotting off.

Dom blinked at Kel. "Did you know about this?"

Kel shook her head. "She must have arranged it on her own," she muttered faintly.

"At least yours is good enough to take her precociousness out and bother other people with it, bless her," Neal grumbled.

"In that regard, Mindelan," Numair remarked, "you are most fortunate."

MMMM

Kel's first realization on waking was that Dom had an arm wrapped about her waist. Her first thought was that she ought to remain as still as possible in order to savor waking up beside him. Then she remembered that there was no urgent need to savor this particular morning since she'd be waking up beside him for the next few months. Kel sighed and pulled the blanket back up under their chins, deciding to savor it anyway. Maybe someday, she thought, I'll be glad the years of separation taught me to savor the good moments.

"You're not getting up for some sort of insane early morning training?" Dom whispered against her neck.

"I'm not getting up until you get up," she muttered, rolling over so she could face him.

"And I'm not getting up until you get up," he told her, shutting his eyes and letting his head sink back down onto the pillow. "So we could be in for a very long and unproductive morning."

Kel shifted so that she could rest her head on his shoulder and closed her own eyes. She had just drifted into a comfortable doze when Kefira came bounding in and jumped onto their bed, followed by all four cats.

"When's breakfast, Ma?" she asked crawling in between them. "And what are you teaching the pages this morning? Can I come and help?"

Kel yawned and stretched. "We're doing falling this morning. They all need reminding how to do it properly."

"But falling is easy and boring," Kefira protested.

"It gets harder as you grow taller," Dom muttered as he opened his eyes.

Kefira blinked doubtfully and sat up so that she could lift Summer—a long legged tabby—into her lap. "Can I go to Da's work today instead?"

"I'll be calculating supply needs, Fira" Dom warned her. "It will be very, very dull."

"But at least it will be a new kind of boring," Kefira said determinedly.

Kel shrugged and decided there simply wasn't any arguing with four-year-old logic.

MMMM

Thus Jon found Kefira seated cross-legged atop Raoul's desk when he arrived at the Own's Headquarters for a meeting. The desk was, in fact, completely occupied by Kefira and her four kittens so that Dom and Raoul had been forced to move their inventorying operation to the floor.

"I suppose you're in charge here now," Jon said to Kefira as he sank down in Raoul's desk chair.

"Not yet, your majesty," she answered cheerfully and completely sincerely, "but maybe in a few years."

"Good," Raoul muttered absently, "I'll want to retire eventually."

Dom glanced up at his daughter and shrugged uncomfortably. "Why don't you run outside and play?"

"I've heard that one before," Kefira said. But she leapt off the desk, landing as lightly as the cats, jumped nimbly over Raoul's outstretched legs, and departed, leading the troop of kittens in her wake.

"She let you win that one," Jon informed Dom. "In ten or twelve years you might not be so lucky."

MMMM TWO OR THREE DAYS LATER

Tobe found Penelope in the stables the day after his future Rider group returned. She was giving her horse, Appleblossum, a thorough grooming after a long ride, so he picked up a brush and started on the opposite side.

Penelope nodded her thanks, but didn't try to make conversation. They'd never known each other especially well and it had been ages since they'd seen each other. Still, the silence was a companionable one and Tobe waited a few minutes before breaking it.

"Do you know Roland?" he asked, setting to work on the dried mud coating Applebossom's legs.

Penelope wrinkled her forehead thoughtfully. "The smallest page—with dark hair and blue eyes—he's usually last in line."

Tobe nodded. "Do you think you could sort of—I dunno—take him under your wing?"

"I don't have wings," Penelope muttered automatically.

Tobe sighed. "You know what I mean—"

"Yes—but I'm not the type—I don't—I'm not good at that kind of…" Penelope tangled her fingers absently in her horse's mane. She'd spent so long struggling to avoid harassment that she had trouble imagining anyone coming to her for help.

"Look," Tobe said quickly. "I know your not the maternal type or whatever, but you can be sort of sisterly sometimes. And you—well, you and I both know that when you're little and outnumbered sometimes it's fair to fight dirty. And you're also an orphan."

Penelope twitched her lips into a brief smile. "So are you." She stepped around Appleblossom so that she stood beside him.

"He's just needs a little confidence—someone to show him a few tricks," Tobe said.

Penelope nodded hesitantly and then gripped Tobe's shoulder in agreement. She'd had more than her fair share of trouble, but there had always been people—Mindelan, Dalton, Neal, the Lionness—to take her side. It was only fair that she turn around and take Roland's. "I'll try," she whispered.

"Thanks. Kel will really appreciate—well, not that I really want to tell her about this exactly—but it'll be a weight off her shoulders to see him fending for himself."

Penelope nodded and set to work on Appleblossom's face with a soft cloth. "So, if you came to ask favors for Mindelan and Roland, why are you helping me groom my horse?"

Tobe swallowed. "Just thought it'd be friendly—it's easier to talk next to horses and when you're hands are full."

"Yes, it is," Penelope agreed quietly. "But you're awfully busy to be doing me this kind of favor and you could easily have talked me around without helping me." She looked expectantly at Tobe, who blushed faintly.

"So there's this girl…" Tobe began.

"I was afraid of that, I'm not—"

"It isn't you," he assured her.

"I know—that's irrelevant," Penelope told him.

"There aren't all that many girls who like to ride around fighting Immortals and catching bandits, so I've got a sort of narrow field for getting perspective and opinion," Tobe explained, watching her with imploring eyes

"I'm really not the person to be asking for advice."

"I'm really desperate." Tobe swallowed.

"Why not ask Mindelan?"

"I'm not _that _desperate," Tobe muttered.

"And, somehow, I'm not all that flattered." Penelope sighed. "But I suppose I'll have to do my best. We'd better groom Neal's horse too though—I certainly can't promise promptness."

"Thanks," Tobe whispered, leading the way to Magewhisper's stall.

"So this girl," Penelope began as they started grooming Magewhisper, "does she know she's a girl or does she prefer to think of herself as one of the lads?"

"Well, she doesn't draw much attention to herself, but I'm pretty sure she knows."

"Good," Penelope said briskly, "that ought to make everything easier for you."

MMMM

That evening, as Dom was attempting to teach Kefira and Nessaren how to play cards and Neal was attempting to teach them how to cheat, Kel answer a knock at the door to her suite and found a servant and three pages. The servant informed her irritably that they had been caught fighting in the corridor. Roland was among them—sporting the beginnings of a black eye—but the two older pages—with a broken nose and a noticeable limp—were decidedly worse off.

Kel questioned the other two and assigned punishments, saving Roland for last. He kept his face almost impassive as he watched but there was a tiny glint of triumph in his good eye that almost brought a smile to Kel's lips.

"So did you fall down too?" Kel asked once the others had left.

Roland's lip twitched into the tiniest of smiles. "No, lady knight, I had a philosophical disagreement with a very stubborn animal."

Kel blinked. It was very similar to the excuse Penelope had always given after her own fights. She glanced back at Neal and he raised his eyebrows at her and tapped at his strand of grey hair, which he blamed on his squire. Then he walked over to tend to Roland's black eye.

"Did she tell you to say that?" Kel asked once Neal had finished.

Roland looked up at her innocently. "Who?"

Kel sighed. "Very well. You'll spend three bells mucking out stables like the others."

Roland bowed and turned to leave, but Neal grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"And you'll take over my place at the card table—you ought to be good at it with a face like yours."

If Kel hadn't been watching carefully she might have missed the tiny nod that passed between Tobe and Roland. As it was, she noticed but decided her life was already full of mysteries to ponder and things to wonder at.

_So, hope you all enjoyed. I'll try to have another episode up next week—assuming no nasty papers on Anglo-Saxon trading sites get in the way—and it will cover early spring. Also, I have a bittersweet announcement to make: the end of the fic is in sight. I'm going to Ireland for the month of July and hope to have this fic finished before leaving. This will also let everyone direct their undivided attention to Harry Potter 7…and then hopefully I'll return in the fall with some sort of sequel or side story. _


	25. Ice and Barley

_Sorry about the delay in posting. The dark tunnel of midterms merged into the longer and bleaker tunnel of finals before I got a chance to surface…Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you definitely encouraged me to continue typing away in my spare time. As always, recognizable cast and location belong to Tamora Pierce. Finally, I apologize for any errors in Tortallian geography; they're a hazard of trying to write 500 miles from my bookshelf. _

_Synopsis of previous episode: Dom adjusted to life at home with his precocious child, while Tobe asked Penelope to teach Roland to fight and begged advice for his own love life (or lack thereof), This episode begins place a few weeks later and at the Northern(?) border._

Penelope stared curiously at Cleon of Kennan as he gave commands for night watch duty. There'd been vague rumors about him and Mindelan, but Penelope hadn't had a chance—that is to say, Neal hadn't drunk enough—to investigate them thoroughly. Cleon was leading a troop of knights—including Neal and Alanna—along a sweep of the River Drell following recent threats of an attack on that border. All Penelope could determine was that he was tall and a solid, practical commander. His sense of humor—if he had one—was currently buried and she couldn't imagine him being anything more than a friend of Mindelan's, if that.

"I want a few squires watching that wooded clump on the riverbank," Cleon said. "You"—he pointed at Penelope and she stepped forward—"and you can take first shift." Penelope swallowed when she saw the other squire he'd selected. It was Gregory, one of her old enemies from her page days.

Penelope nodded and turned towards the riverbank. She walked past the rest of camp without bothering to see that Gregory was following her. She took up a position a few feet from the partially iced-over river and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"I heard about your little tussle with Marcel," Gregory muttered.

His tone suggested that the version he'd heard from Marcel wasn't strictly accurate. Penelope responded by raising her eyebrows and lifting her hand to her belt knife. She'd grown accustomed to long silences over the years and resolved to treat Gregory to a particularly awkward one. They both stood motionless, listening to the sound of the rest of the camp settling in for the night.

"Your luck's going to run out eventually, you know," Gregory hissed when he could no longer stand the quiet.

"Good thing I get by on talent then, isn't it?" Penelope answered before she could remind herself not to engage him.

"Your looks won't last long either," Gregory said. He glared at her when she didn't respond and stepped towards her. "You'll be covered in scars in a few years and then not even Dalton will want you," he added.

Penelope gazed calmly at the river as a patch of ice broke off and drifted downstream. It was true that she had a few sizable scars on her upper arms, but Dalton's only response had been to trace them gently with his fingers so she rather doubted Gregory's last statement.

"And when they don't want you anymore," Gregory added, taking another step towards her, "they'll stop leaping in to protect you."

Penelope tensed. She suspected he was trying to pick a fight, but she didn't know what kind of disciplinarian Cleon would be. If Gregory swung first, she wouldn't be accused of abandoning watch duty to fight him.

"Yes," Penelope muttered. "I'm sure you must be dreading the day. It will be difficult to explain why you're afraid to duel a woman half your size."

That gave Gregory the encouragement he was looking for and he seized her by the elbow. Penelope drove her knee to his groin and twisted away, stepping just short of the river. A sharp knock to the head unbalanced her and she just had time to realize that it was not Gregory's fist, but a rock thrown from across the river, before she toppled over. Her body broke through the ice instantly and she shrieked as she went under. She came up gasping, just as Gregory gave a cry of pain and landed beside her with a splash that drove them both under.

Penelope tried to surface again but found that the current had drawn her under another patch of ice. She clawed at it futilely. A hand grabbed her roughly by the wrist and dragged her out. Her limbs were already so stiff and numb as to be useless, but Penelope struggled anyway to break free from Gregory.

"Truce," he hissed. And Penelope nodded automatically. In the distance she could hear knights from their camp scrambling towards the river. Their shouts must have woken someone.

"Good," Gregory muttered through chattering teeth. "We've got to get out of this. Look—I'm tall enough I can keep you from going under—but my foot's trapped—I need--"

Penelope nodded again. Neither of them had time to argue. "Grab my ankle," she ordered and dove. It took all her strength to prize the submerged log off of Gregory's boot and she nearly forgot herself and tried to gasp underwater once she'd managed it.

Gregory jerked her to the surface and together they fumbled their way towards the bank and dragged each other onto land. Cleon, closely followed by Alanna and Neal, reached them just as they were stumbling to their feet.

"What's happened?" Cleon demanded.

Neither of them answered. Neal pulled Penelope under his cloak and she realized that she'd lost her own sometime underwater. That was probably for the best since the weight of it might have pulled her too far under the ice. Then she'd have been stuck in the cold and the dark, unable to breath, just like Sir Kendal had…

Alanna slapped Gregory across the face and Penelope blinked in surprise as Alanna shook roughly her by the shoulders and shoved a small flask into her hands.

"I know," Alanna told them. "It's the second scariest thing in the world and quite possibly the coldest."

Penelope found herself shivering uncontrollably as she resolved never to ask the lady knight what she thought was the scariest thing in the world.

"Drink," Alanna ordered. "And then report. We need to know if we're under attack."

The flask contained brandy and Penelope coughed as she passed it to Gregory.

"I don't think so," she muttered. "Greogory and I were—" Gregory caught her eyes and blinked slowly, pleadingly, and Penelope adjusted her story—"momentarily distracted when their sentries threw rocks at our heads." Neal's fingers were already skimming her scalp, finding and healing the painful lump and the tickling sensation distracted her from talking.

Gregory took a third swallow of brandy and picked up the story. "She was hit first, but they hit me before I could spot them. We were pretty noisy when we hit the water so I think that warned them off. My foot got trapped and she slid under a patch of ice and I fished her out. Then she freed my foot and we swam clear." Alanna stood on tiptoe to heal the bump on Gregory's head.

Penelope nodded. "That's all there is to it. Sorry for the disturbance, sir."

Cleon frowned and dismissed the squires, asking Neal and Alanna to stand in until the next set of guards arrived. Gregory bowed and trotted away after Cleon, but Neal wrapped an arm firmly about Penelope's waist to keep her from following.

"You didn't tell us everything," he muttered.

Penelope was too cold to think of a plausible lie. "No, sorry—but we probably saved each other's lives. What happened before—I don't think it will happen again."

Neal started to protest, but Alanna cut him off. " It's none of your business. You have to let her deal with these things as she sees fit." Penelope swallowed and forced her lips into what she hoped was a brief, grateful smile.

Alanna grabbed Penelope by the shoulder. "You're freezing," she muttered. "Go to my tent, get out of your wet things, crawl in Dalton's bedroll, and warm up." Penelope decided that just because she thought this order was some sort of cold-induced hallucination was no reason to disobey it and she nodded quickly before stumbling away.

MMMM

Neal raised his eyebrows at Alanna. "How come I never got that sort of order? And why do you always take her side?"

"I don't always take her side. I only take it when she's right and you aren't. Or when I think it will contribute to that distinguished greying on your temples."

Neal lifted a hand to his head and glared at her.

"And you might have gotten that sort of order," she added, "if you'd had anything remotely resembling a successful romance."

"You're getting tough and prickly in your old age," Neal told her.

" Try and do the same, Queenscove, I'm going to need someone like you to help me keep sharp."

MMMM

"You're freezing," Dalton hissed as one of Penelope's feet brushed his leg. His first instinct was to flinch away from her icy skin and his second was to pull her closer and hold her until she stopped shivering. "What happened out there?"

"I went swimming—unexpectedly," she murmured, slurring her words slightly as she settled her head on his shoulder.

"Obviously," he muttered back and pushed her wet braid off his chest. "What did Gregory do? Did he try to—"

"No—he was just looking for a fight. And he would have gotten it if we hadn't both been idiots and gotten ourselves knocked into the river." She sighed and described her fall and Gregory's change of heart as her shivers subsided.

"And I thought it was hot water that's supposed to test character," Dalton whispered. She sighed again, but contentedly this time, and he watched her eyelids flutter shut. "You're probably right about him not bothering you again though. But Marcel..."

"Marcel's different; Gregory just wanted to beat me up to prove he could—he didn't want to sleep with me," she explained bluntly without opening her eyes. "Not that Marcel still wants to after…anyway he's scared of you even if he doesn't have the sense to be scared of me."

"Idiot," Dalton muttered.

"I can handle him," she told him sleepily. "And the rumors. It's not as if they're going to go away. People still say all sorts of things about Mindelan and the Lioness and they're—"

"Married," Dalton finished. "Something we should talk about soon."

Penelope opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly and Dalton worried that she was going to turn away as she had the first time he brought up the topic. "I think you know by now that, even though I stand to inherit a large estate eventually, my dowry, such as it is, consists of various bladed weapons and a cranky horse."

Dalton pulled her head back down onto his shoulder. "By eventually, I meant sometime when you aren't half-drowned and half-drunk."

"I'm hardly—" she began , but he covered her lips with one hand and kissed the top of her head to stop her protest.

"However, since you're unusually open to such discussion this evening, I ought to point out that as a fourth son I won't be inheriting any land. But I will get a sum generous enough for the two of us to live on—economically, for a few years—once I'm knighted."

She smiled and he lifted his fingers off her lips. "It sounds as though we're evenly matched then," she said, "and sharing is very economical." Then she yawned hugely and nodded off once more, leaving Dalton staring at the top of the tent with what he knew was a foolish grin plastered to his face until Alanna came to send him out for watch duty.

MMMM At the Rider Stables, one month later

Tobe was lingering by the feed bin after he'd finished untacking his own mount and hoping for a glimpse of Adella—and perhaps a word with her—when he heard another Rider speaking in a low, miserable voice.

"I'm so sorry," Tessa muttered to her pony, Barley, "but they're telling me you're just not up for Rider work anymore and I haven't any money at the moment."

"Hey," Tobe muttered. "What's the matter?"

"Oh!" Tessa startled and stepped back and her face crumpled with tears as she recognized Tobe.

"Barley's leg's gone kind of lame—he canters and trots fine but he's had a few too many healings and he can't gallop across open country any more and they're telling me he's got to be sold." She left out a little sob and Tobe patted her shoulder awkwardly. "And I love him enough I'd buy him only I don't have the coins. Not to mention I wouldn't have a way to care for him when I'm away."

"How much are they selling him for?" Tobe asked.

She told him. Tobe counted his money and found he was four nobles short.

"Wait here," he ordered Tessa. And he darted off in search of Daine. He found Numair first and begged the coins off him, promising several hours of babysitting in exchange for the loan.

"I hope she's worth it," Numair called after him.

"Barley's a gelding," Tobe muttered back. And buying him wasn't going to attract Adella's interest either—he doubted the pretty Rider would notice—but he couldn't just let the old Rider pony be sold to stranger.

He completed the purchase at Rider headquarters in matter of minutes and returned to find Tessa—now dry-eyed to his great relief—pacing anxiously outside Barley's stall.

"There's no need to worry," Tobe told her. "I've bought him."

Tessa gaped at him.

"I'm giving him to a little lady who will love him dearly," Tobe assured her. "Her mother will probably throttle me for taking the liberty but at least Barley will go to a good home—actually he won't be "going" far at all since Kel will want to keep him in the palace stables."

Tessa wasn't particularly pretty—her young face was all wide brown eyes and freckles—but Tobe found the heartfelt grin she gave him fetching all the same. It was so honest and friendly that he found himself smiling in return.

"He'll be very well taken care of—spoiled probably—and you'll be able to visit him any time you like," he told her, hoping to make her smile again.

Instead, she burst into tears. Fortunately, Tobe had absorbed enough advice from Daine and Lalasa over the years to recognize these as the happy sort.

"It seems only proper for the old boy to get good grazing after his years of Rider service," Tobe muttered, clapping her on the back. Behind him, Barley snorted emphatically in agreement.

Tessa laughed and nodded at him. "I believe that was a reminder to say 'thank you'".

MMMM

Tobe left Barley in the practice courts without bothering to tie him up, trusting him not to wander. The pages were all at their indoor afternoon lessons so he trotted eagerly to the train master's suite and found Kel writing at Dom's desk—which she preferred to her own and borrowed whenever her Dom wasn't looking—with Kefira and the kittens playing at her feet.

"Hello," he said, winking at Kefira, "there's someone in the practice courts waiting to meet you two ladies."

Kel glanced up at Tobe, saw that he was pinching his lips to conceal his grin, and found herself doing the same. She wasn't sure what had Tobe so pleased, but there was something positively infectious about the light in his eyes. Kel shoved her letters aside and allowed her daughter to drag her out the door.

Kefira skipped happily beside her—and the half-grown kittens swarmed around their ankles—as they followed Tobe outside. Kel appraised the jaunty set of Tobe's shoulders and reassured herself that Neal was too far away to have inspired any mischief. Though, Kel reminded herself, Dom and Numair were just as capable of encouraging trickery and less likely to get caught. Kel shrugged and shook her head at her own foolish suspicion when they reached the practice courts and found them nearly empty.

"Hmm," Tobe muttered, "I suppose that's two someones now."

There were, in fact, only two occupants: a sturdy gray pony and a large red-haired knight. Both creatures turned to regard the newcomers with perplexed expressions.

"Cleon?" Kel murmured, but she barely heard herself over her daughter's laughter as Kefira released her hand and darted towards the pony.

Kel followed at a slower pace, scarcely aware of Tobe helping Kefira onto the pony as she and Cleon exchanged smiles. He offered his arms tentatively as though unsure if it would be proper to greet her with an embrace, but Kel merely grinned and pulled him into a friendly back-pounding hug and their uneasiness vanished.

"Is this little one yours?" he asked, gesturing towards the pony.

"No," Kel said automatically. Then she shook her head. "Yes, that's Kefira—which did you mean?"

"She's just momentarily confused," Tobe called over his shoulder as he trotted away alongside Kefira and her pony. "Their both hers—pony's named Barley, by the by—and so are the kittens for that matter."

Kel and Cleon both glanced down and found that she was flanked by a small feline army.

Cleon chuckled. "I suppose some things never change."

Kel grinned. "And here I though cats were paragons of inconstancy."

They settled themselves on a bench (whereupon all four kittens made themselves comfortable on Cleon's large form) to watch Kel's daughter delight in her new pony—for which Kel resolved to thoroughly scold and thank Tobe later.

"How have things been up North?" Kel asked.

"Cold, muddy, and dull, though there were one or two incidents—involving some of your squires actual—"

"What has Penelope gotten herself into this time?" Kel asked resignedly.

"How did you know?" He shook his head. "It takes one to know one I suppose. Anyway, she didn't impale any conservative knights, she only went swimming under sheets of ice."

"Fairly tame, for her," Kel muttered, waving at Kefira and Barley as they passed before she sat back to listen to Cleon's story.

_That's all for now folks. I'm about to be swamped by work again but I'll try to have an episode up in the 2__nd__ week of May. In the meantime, thanks for reading, best of luck to all fellow academic sufferers, and feel free to drop a review. _


	26. Cruel Logic

_Apologies for the lag in updates…I'm down to 40 pages of papers left to turn in. Of course, cast and setting belong to Tamora Pierce, I'm just interrupting a lovely spring afternoon with a little violence. _

_Synopsis of previous episode: Penelope had an unexpected icy swim but finally discussed marriage with Dalton. Tobe purchased a pon, Barley, for Kefira from one of his fellow Riders, Tessa. And Cleon stopped by the palace for a visit. This episode takes place a few months later, in late spring of the same year._

Kel started guiltily as a pair of large warm hands descended on her shoulders and she hurried to fold up her papers. But her arms were quickly pinned to her sides.

"Wait," Dom muttered against her cheek. "I want to see what has you so perturbed that you're writing at the wrong desk."

"Sorry," Kel said, glancing sheepishly sideways as he released her arms. "Yours is nicer for writing though." She kissed his cheek. "And being here reminds me of you." He kissed her back. "Not to mention," she continued, "mine seems to be covered." Kel's otherwise immaculate table was occupied by four sleeping cats.

"Fair enough," Dom conceded with a fond glare in the direction of the cats. He swiped her papers from her desk and unfolded them. "That still doesn't explain why you're wasting a glorious spring afternoon worrying about finding knightmasters for pages who won't be squires for another six weeks."

"But there are so many of them this year and so few knight masters available…I wish Neal could take one of the…the whole system's flawed really, it would work much better if the pages graduated at the same time as the squires earned their shields so that knights who were losing their squires could take on new ones right away and—"

Dom silenced her with a brief kiss and pulled her out of her chair. "I suggest you wait a few more years before overturning that tradition, Lady Knight. I would hate to have my sleep disrupted by disgruntled conservatives coming to kill you in the night."

"Actually," Kel muttered absently as she took the lists back, "they usually come very early in the morning, which is even worse."

"In any case," Dom said, playfully prying the letters from her grip, "we're going out riding now." Kel started to protest but Dom cut her off. "How often does Daine volunteer to take Kefira for the afternoon?" he asked, handing her her boots. "You're bound to think of a solution outside. In fact, the farther you are from any writing materials, the more brilliant your ideas will be."

Kel feigned a reluctant sigh. "I suppose there's no arguing with the cruel logic of the gods."

"Meathead and I have been trying to teach you that for years," Dom muttered, tugging her out the door. Kel just shook her head and surprised both of them by releasing the giddy spring giggle welling up at the back of her throat.

MMMM

"Please?" Selina begged. "I just want to hear about the final battle, not the entire war."

Wyldon sighed. Selina reminded him strangely of one of his own daughters at moments like these, though he'd never spent much time with them and when he had they'd asked for fairy tales, not real life memories. He'd never liked talking about his own war experiences, but Selina rode steadily through the forest beside him, pleading silently with her enormous brown eyes.

"Very well," he said abruptly and she twitched her lips in a triumphant smile as he began. "I took command of a small squad in charge of dispatching a herd of killer unicorns and we were—"

He broke off as his horse reared unexpectedly and he slid sideways, hitting the ground hard. Selina lunged and grabbed his horse's mane and Wyldon was trying to regain his feet—and cursing his stiff, aging, and uncooperative limbs—when a pair of centaurs charged from the trees. Selina dropped the reins of Wyldon's horse and drew her blade, forcing her own mount to block Wyldon from the centaurs.

Selina swung at one, leaving a deep cut across his human shoulder. Wyldon scrambled to his feet, reaching for his belt since his sword was strung across his saddle and his horse had fled. He darted around Selina's horse and drove the blade into the second centaur's belly, winning himself a painful kick and a few broken ribs. Selina meanwhile had managed to slice off the hand of her centaur, but she'd been cut across the thigh and her trousers were rapidly being soaked with blood.

The two injured centaurs fled as quickly as they had appeared, leaving Selina and Wyldon gasping at one another as he scrambled to his feet yet again.

Later, Wyldon would scold himself for his carelessness and marvel at Selina's instincts. At the moment, he only heard her startled cry and saw the flash of her blade as she buried it in the bandit's neck and shoulder. He blinked in surprise as their attacker sprawled across the ground, still breathing raggedly.

"Could—could you uh, end it," she mumbled shakily, holding out her sword. Her face had gone very pale and her eyes were wider then he'd ever seen them before.

Wyldon gently extracted the sword hilt from her hand, trying to remember if she'd killed before and realizing she hadn't. He drew the blade swiftly across the man's throat so that the terrible, bubbling breaths ceased.

MMMM

Kel had just finished her apple and settled her head comfortably against Dom's shoulder when a distant shout startled both of them. It was followed by a shrill whinny and the sound of hoof beats as they stood reluctantly.

"Looks like Wyldon's horse," Dom murmured as he held out a soothing hand to snag to creature's reins.

Kel's only response was a muttered curse as she mounted Hoshi and took off in the direction of the shouts.

"Should have expected this," Dom told the two horses. He cast a final glance at the remains of their picnic before hurrying to follow his wife.

MMMM

Wyldon heard Selina groan in pain as she slid from her horse and her injured leg took the weight. He glanced back, saw her being sick, and glanced away again to give her privacy. Wyldon wiped her blade clean and gave a low whistle, hoping to summon his own horse back. Not that either of them was really in good enough condition for mounting or riding but it would be a start at least.

"How are you doing?" he asked, hobbling over to take her horse.

"Alright, I guess, just a little dizzy." It was a good lie, but he was experienced enough to recognize it immediately.

"Sit down," he ordered. "And rinse your mouth out."

She obeyed instantly, dropping to the ground rather than the stump he'd indicated and landing rather harder than she'd meant to. She gargled a bit of water and let it out in a lethargic spray.

"Can't you spit properly?" he demanded. A small corner of his mind wondered at the fact that he was asking a young noblewoman such a question, but a larger corner wondered that he was asking it of the squire who had just saved his life.

"Sorry about that, sir," she mumbled. "No older brothers to teach me."

"Well—" He cut short his reply as she pushed herself onto her feet at the sound of approaching riders. He grabbed her by the elbow to keep her upright—she'd lost a worrying amount of blood—as he pulled her off the path.

Wyldon was immensely relieved to recognize Kel and possibly even more relieved when Dom appeared behind her leading his horse. They both took in the man's body, the centaur's hand, Selina's injury, and his own hobbling gate with steady eyes as they dismounted.

"An ambush," he explained, unnecessarily. "Centaurs. They can't have gone far, but I don't expect them to return any time soon."

Kel nodded and pulled a blanket from her saddlebag to cover the body. Trust Keladry to manage the polite and practical at once, he thought. And then he found himself staggering slightly under his squire's weight as she swayed suddenly.

Dom stepped in quickly, to catch Selina and take her pulse, ignoring her protest that she'd be fine in a minute. Then she looked down and saw her own leg and stopped protesting.

"This is beyond me," Dom muttered as he wrapped a makeshift bandage around her leg to slow the bleeding. "But I can have her at the infirmary in ten minutes."

Kel nodded and scooped Selina easily into her arms while Dom mounted. Then managed to transfer the girl into Dom's grip without any awkward moments. Wyldon reminded himself that he shouldn't be surprised to see how well and wordlessly they worked together. They were both well trained for the improvisation of command and neither one was especially talkative. Still, he found he almost envied them; even after twenty-eight years of marriage, Wyldon and his wife had no hope of being so coordinated.

"And you, sir?" Kel interrupted his thoughts with a gentle tap on the shoulder. "Are you injured?"

"Just my dignity." Wyldon shifted uncomfortably and Kel recognized a slight rasp of pain at the edges of his words. She raised her eyebrows and gave him a motherly stare.

"And a few ribs," he admitted. "I can ride though," he added, reaching for his reins.

"Glad to hear it, sir. I'll just give you a leg up," Kel said with just a note of cheekiness. She bent to grasp his knee before he could protest.

They rode in silence for several uncomfortable minutes. Kel noticed that Wyldon's breathing seemed rather shallow but felt that he'd already suffered enough indignities and didn't like to ask about it. He looked years older than the last time she'd seen him.

"It's been a humbling day," Wyldon muttered, as though he could read her thoughts. "She saved my life twice in five minutes."

"She couldn't have without your teaching," Kel said gently. "So you saved your own life vicariously. Mine too and Dom's and Neal's. Your training's probably saved hundreds of lives over the years."

"So will yours," he said.

Kel nodded. "I hope so." They were quiet for another short stretch but this one wasn't as awkward.

"If it had been left to my decision she never would have held a sword," he mused.

"Good thing she got to choose her own life then," Kel snapped before she could censure herself.

Wyldon blinked at her. "Even better that you convinced me I was wrong years ago, Mindelan." His face softened and he dropped his eyes to his horse's withers. "I thought for a time that you were extraordinary—a special exception—and it took me ages to realize you were only remarkable; that there isn't anything singular about women warriors other than the tenacity they need to deal with chauvinist idiots."

"Yes," Kel muttered, smiling slightly. "The balding ones are particularly difficult."

"Are they?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Must be envy." He shook his head. "I used to worry about Selina. I thought she was too sensitive—oh, I thought she could earn her shield, but I worried the process would roughen her somehow, leave her just a shell of herself. She's taught me the difference between delicate and fragile though. And today, she was stronger than me. She's got good instincts"

"Funny thing about women, sir, we have this uncontrollable urge to protect the people we care about." Kel pretended to frown thoughtfully. "And then we're also very committed to saving our own skins. Rather like men, that way, I suppose."

"Common mortal failing," Wyldon said, straitening in his saddle as they reached the palace gates.

MMMM

Dom met them at the gate and discretely helped Wyldon dismount, winking at Kel. They both accompanied him to the infirmary.

"How is she, Queenscove?" Wyldon demanded as entered.

Neal blinked mildly and raised a finger to his lips. "She's asleep." Then he took pity on Wyldon's frustrated grimace and Kel's pleading gaze. "She's going to be fine," he assured. "There'll be scar, of course, but no limp. All she needs is a day or two in bed and a few quiet weeks."

Wyldon winced at the thought.

Neal patted his shoulder with a strangely sympathetic expression. "I recommend praying for nasty weather. I promise you she can't be worse than Penelope." Then he turned his attention to Lord Wyldon's injuries, stripping off his shirt and running careful fingers along his ribs.

Glancing about the infirmary, Kel realized that the bed beside Selina's was occupied by a familiar figure.

"Penelope," she muttered. "What are you doing here?"

The squire had one arm splinted and the remains of a mostly-healed bruise on her forehead. She propped herself and grinned weakly.

"I got into a philosophical dispute of sorts with a stubborn—"

Kel rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you're a little too old to be feeding me that one ?"

Penelope blushed slightly. "So, I probably deserved it after all these years."

Neal nodded with an unmistakably smug expression on his face. "Cruel logic of the gods. She took my new horse out for exercise and got thrown into a stone wall."

Kel looked back at Penelope who shot her an unrepentant smile.

"I hoped you learned a lesson from this," Kel said with mock severity.

"I've learned several," Penelope said. "Chief among them: concussions are painful and I should think very carefully before obeying any orders Queenscove."

"I understood you to be a quick study, Proudcreek," Wyldon muttered. "You ought to have realized that last years ago."

Neal blinked at his former training master and resolved to check for signs of a stroke. Surely, this sudden onset of sarcasm was symptomatic of a serious ailment. If he developed a sense of irony, it might prove fatal.

Wyldon merely rolled his eyes at Kel and pinched his lips together to keep from laughing at the expression on Queenscove's face.

_Thanks for reading and feel free to review. I'll have a summer episode soon so you can see how Tobe's love life is going…_


	27. Motherhood and Madness

_Hello again! Thanks for all your lovely reviews…they inspired me to write this when I should have been researching the transcendentalist movement. Obviously, Tamora Pierce doesn't have an ethnography final due next week, and therefore I cannot be she. _

_Synopsis of previous episode: Selena, Wyldon's squire, saved his life and the pair were helped to the infirmary by Dom and Kel (who had an odd conversation with Wyldon on the way). This episode takes place several weeks later, in early summer._

"It must be strange for you," Dalton muttered to Kel, as Kefira scrambled off his back to chase after fireflies. "Watching all the new squires leave with their knight masters."

They'd just finished watching Alfred, the last of her former pages, ride away with Lord Grenmore. Dalton had spent a few weeks helping Kel with the pages morning training while Alanna visited the king. It had given him something to do since Penelope and Neal were away, and, oddly enough, he thought that he would miss the departing pages. He had trouble imagining what it would be like for Mindelan after she'd worked with them for years.

"The real shock will come when you lot win your shields this winter," she murmured, watching her daughter dash across the courtyard. "This is bittersweet. Mostly though, I'm glad to have found places for all of them—the girls especially." She sighed softly.

Dalton realized that she was speaking to him like she would Queenscove, confiding, not just making small talk. He wondered just when he had earned her trust.

"Next year's going to be even worse," she continued. "They'll be five girl squires and I already seem to have used up my supply of sympathetic knights."

"But Queenscove and the Lioness will be free again next spring," he reminded her.

She nodded thoughtfully.

"I'd volunteer, if I could," he added, realizing the truth of the words as he spoke. "But I'm afraid that would only—"

"Scandal," she said. "I know, but I appreciate the thought. Perhaps in a few years…if you were married or—"she bent abruptly to examine the fireflies her daughter had caught.

Dalton took care to hide his smile as he watched the two of them. He was thinking that—assuming their finances worked out favorably—he and Penelope might be able to take two squires at once in a few years. It would be worth the effort too, a good way to pay their old training master back for all the times she'd looked the other way and let them bend the rules. But for now, he and Penelope had agreed to keep their engagement a secret, which was probably for the best, given the gossip it might generate.

MMMM

Dalton rose full of restless energy the next and spent most of the morning out riding, returning to the stables in the early afternoon. He let his mind wander while grooming his horse and didn't realize that he had company in his stall until his horse stepped forward to take a bit of carrot from Tobe's hand. He raised his eyebrows as Tobe grabbed a spare brush and began working at his horse's other side. But it wasn't until he remembered a certain conversation Penelope had told him about that Dalton began to suspect an ulterior motive.

"I understand that last time you started with "so there's this girl"", he prompted. And he practically heard Tobe wincing.

"Does she tell you everything?"

"No. I have no idea, for instance, what she told you. I just know you asked her advice regarding a certain—"

"That was a mistake," Tobe muttered.

"Insulting her isn't going to prompt me into giving better—"

"Er, no, her advice wasn't bad actually. I meant that girl was a mistake—a very pretty mistake."

"So now you're ready to begin again with "so there's this other girl, who has been my friend all along, only now I can't stop thinking about her and she can't possibly have any idea that I care" or something along those lines." Dalton eyed Tobe speculatively as he spoke.

"How did you know?"

"Ancient history, thankfully largely repressed." Dalton glowered at Tobe over his horse—who chose this particular moment to lift his tail and produce a loud and smelly cloud of gas—before twitching his lips into a smile.

Tobe nodded, wisely deciding not to ask if Penelope knew about this "ancient history, thankfully largely repressed."

"So," Dalton continued with smug cheeriness, "when did you hit the awkward staring and glaring phase?"

"That depends. Does it involve occasional shouting matches alternating with long painful silences?"

Dalton nodded. "Followed by simultaneous and pathetic attempts at apologizing."

Tobe swallowed. "Right that. It's been one week, four days, and six—no, seven hours."

Dalton lifted his eyebrows and ducked his head in a mock bow. "I'm impressed. I lost track of the hours after the first week." The horse tossed his head and gave an eloquent sneeze. "Of course," Dalton admitted, " by that point we'd taken our tension to the practice courts, so I had started counting bruises instead."

Tobe winced and Dalton pretended not to notice. "So how do I er, end it?" Tobe asked finally. "And please don't tell me we have to save each other's lives first."

Dalton chuckled as he put away the brushes. "No, only extraordinarily dense love struck fools require mortal peril to sort things out. You can probably manage just by kissing her."

Tobe paused in mid step and swallowed audibly. "I was afraid of that."

"What for? She'll either slap you—giving you a good excuse for weeks of self-pity and moping—or kiss you back—giving you a good reason for weeks of annoyingly cheerful whistling and irritating cheerful banter."

"But—"

"In any case, Tessa doesn't look like the sort of girl to rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast."

Tobe's jaw loosened. "How did you—"

Dalton raised one finger and pointed first at his eyes and then at his ears. His horse pawed the floor and gave a long eye-rolling snort.

"I know," Dalton muttered to his horse. "I promise it's a temporary condition." Then he gave Tobe a forceful shove towards the Rider barracks.

MMMM

Kel was rather surprised that evening when, upon returning to her chambers after a brief meeting with the king, she found the Lioness nearly buried by the sleeping forms of Kefira and her four cats. Alanna was gazing contentedly out the window at the setting sun and absently stroking Summer's head. The scene was so cozy and domestic that Kel felt almost like an intruder in her own home.

Then Alanna turned to her with a soft chuckle. "It is rather uncomfortably warm, but I _like_ cats and children—I don't know why people find that so astonishing—especially sensible, sturdy ones like yours." She twitched her nose in amusement and Kel wasn't sure whether she was complimenting her daughter or her cats. "And they're always especially endearing when they're sleeping."

Kel smiled. "That's the only time they're still long enough to get a good look at." She settled herself on the sofa beside Alanna and pulled two cats—Spring and Winter—into her own lap. "How did you get her to fall asleep so early?"

"I can't take complete credit. All I did was choose one of my dullest youthful escapades as a bedtime story. Selena wore her out on the practice courts this afternoon. The girl shows more patience in one afternoon than I will in a lifetime."

"Perhaps some credit is due to Lord Wyldon," Kel said with a small smirk.

But Alanna merely rolled her eyes and ignored the remark. "Really, her technique is exceptional and her with her persistence, she's almost a better teacher than I am. She's got the instincts for fighting too—not as fast as Penelope—but she has her own something."

Kel nodded. "I know Selena's going to be an excellent knight one day."

"And probably a wonderful mother too," Alanna said, glancing pointedly at Kefira.

Kel blinked at her.

Alanna pulled her lips briefly into a tight melancholy smile. "You act as though there are two paths: motherhood and knighthood and you have to choose one path and stick to it."

"I—" Kel protested. "I'm managing to do both, mostly anyway."

Alanna raised her eyebrows. "You're chopping yourself in two trying to walk both paths at once."

Kel sighed. "I can't be everywhere all the time."

"I didn't figure that one out until I was thirty-five," Alanna muttered. "You're what? Twenty-five? And about a decade ahead of me."

Kel chuckled softly and reached over to tuck Kefira's hair back behind her ear. "It's not easy, but it's worth it."

"I don't suppose it's occurred to you yet," Alanna continued seriously. "That you can strike off into the woods and forge your own path without following in anyone's footsteps."

"I used to think I was following in yours," Kel muttered.

"In that case, you might wind up taking awfully tiny steps. My legs are much shorter than yours." Alanna lifted one foot in demonstration, disturbing Summer who twitched her tail irritably. "The thing most people—most men anyway and lots of women—don't realize is that you can't just decide to take a particular path with a few decisions, like becoming a knight or having children."

Kel sighed. "That would be far too simple," she agreed.

"You have to make hundreds of choices. Do you bring your daughter with you to the practice courts? Do you stay with her when she's ill? Do you leave someone else with her at night so that you can meet with the king?"

Kel nodded and Alanna twitched her nose for emphasis. "It's hundreds of little choices everyday, hundreds of steps…"

"Hence the need to make my own path," Kel muttered.

"Hence the need for strong legs, sturdy boots, and common sense."

Kel grinned and lifted the cats off her lap so that she could pull Kefira into her arms. She carried her daughter to her cot and tucked her in. When she returned she found that the Lioness had shooed the cats off the sofa and poured two glasses of wine.

"So," Kel remarked as she settled herself on the couch once more, "after that little lecture I feel entitled to ask you what you did when you realized you were going to have twins."

"Ah, that wasn't the best of days," Alanna answered cheerily. " I went out and shot an archery target to pieces, then George got home and I yelled at him until my throat was soar, then I dissolved into tears and had a long exhausting cry followed by a nice long bout of hysterical laughter. Thereupon George carried me inside and fed me an entire lemon tart." She frowned thoughtfully. "And then he tucked me into bed and talked until I was distracted enough to fall asleep—I believe he swore—poor fool—that he would change every single diaper and wipe up every mess—though he didn't quite have to keep that promise. The next day I woke up with the spontaneous urge to take up blanket weaving but was violently ill for a few hours before I could get started."

"Must have been a long day for George," Kel mused.

Alanna nodded. "You notice he figures prominently in the narrative. I think he had an easier time of it after the sixth month. That's when I suddenly went mellow and became unbearably cheerful. He actually spent hours trying to make me loose my temper. I rather enjoyed watching him try."

"I bet Wyldon could have managed it," Kel muttered.

Alanna laughed loudly enough to startle Spring, who darted across the room. "He did, just before I started to show. And we wound up dueling. That was the day Jon forbid me to challenge men 'on personal grounds'. He and George were furious with me and, of course, Wyldon was mortified when he found out."

"Who won?" Kel asked.

"No one," Alanna answered. "Jon stopped us before we'd finished." She sighed. "It does rather explain the twins' devious tendencies though."

Alanna's descriptions of her children's earliest misadventures amused Kel but left her immensely grateful that she hadn't had to manage two children learning to walk at once. A small corner of Kel's mind pointed out that if she were to have another child, Kefira would be old enough not to need constant supervision. The thought lingered in her mind even after she tried to brush it away and she found herself fingering the chain on her neck as she laughed at one of Alanna's stories.

Dom found them gasping for breath when he returned from his own meeting.

"I think it might be safest not to inquire," he muttered to the cats.

"Wise man." Alanna clapped him on the shoulder and promised to meet Kel on the practice courts the next afternoon before leaving.

Kel waved at her absently and swirled the last few drops of wine in her glass before setting it down once more.

"I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" Dom asked, pulling her to her feet and kissing her forehead.

Kel allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she settled her head against his shoulder. "No, I'm just thinking is all."

"Thinking?" he repeated.

Kel's only reply was to smile and lift her face to kiss him.

"Good thoughts, then," Dom whispered, pulling her closer.

MMMM

Kel slid out of Dom's arms the next morning and tiptoed to her daughter's room. Kefira was slept comfortably in a snug nest of cats and early morning sunlight glinted off her hair. Kel smiled and just touched her fingertips to Kefira's cheek before returning to her own room.

There, Dom was awake, gazing absently at the ceiling. Kel seated herself on the edge of the bed and lifted her hands—shaking only slightly—to the chain than held her charm. She bent her neck, pulled it over her head, and dropped in slowly into the drawer of her bedside table.

Dom's eyes widened and he watched her carefully as she shut the drawer. For a moment he looked as though he were about to speak. Then he simply lifted a hand to her cheek and traced it with his fingers.

"It's my decision," said Kel. "I hope you don't mind—"

Dom covered her lips with his hand. "You don't have to say anything." He sat up to kiss her.

"I meant about my taking so long to—"

"I know. Just be quiet, Mindelan." Dom gazed at her for a long while after he'd spoken and the room was so silent that Kel thought she could _hear_ him smiling. "I love all of you, including your stubborn practicality," he told her finally, pulling her into his arms.

Before she could reply, Kefira trotted in, followed by the four cats, all five of them demanding breakfast. And they were launched into another day.

MMMM

"I'm a little worried about Tobe," Kel confided as she and Alanna stopped for a drink of water between practice bouts. "His appetite has been off for the past week or so and then he came into for lunch today and loaded his plate, but he left before he'd eaten more than a bite or two."

Dalton passed her a cup and Kel nodded her thanks at him before downing her water quickly.

"He couldn't seem to sit still," Kel continued. "And he couldn't stop grinning either. Really, if I didn't know better I'd say he—"

Dalton choked in mid-swallow and his violent coughing drowned at Kel's thoughts. Alanna reached over absently to pound her squire on the back, not seeming to notice when she nearly knocked him over.

"There is one simply way of finding out," she told Kel. And then, before either of the other could react, she'd drawn her sword and pointed it at Dalton's throat, backing him into the wall. "Gaming, girls, or brandy?" she demanded.

Dalton swallowed and glanced down at the blade. "Girl, singular."

The Lioness raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat, demanding further information.

"Rider. Pretty freckled brunette. Quiet, friendly, deadly accurate aim." With this Dalton managed to spin out from the wall and draw his own blade in defense. "Which is why I'm not giving a name."

Alanna sighed and lowered her sword. "Well done," she muttered, "only don't twitch your foot like that—you almost gave yourself away—and next time I want to hear how old she is."

"Fifteen," Dalton called as he went to fetch another drink of water.

Alanna turned back to Kel, lifting her sword once more. "There you have it then. Are you ready for another round?"

_Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this one. I'm planning to have an even thirty episodes in this story, which means there will be about three more. That being said, Penelope and Dalton have dragged Selena and Tobe into the corner for a whispered conference and I'm afraid they might try to unleash a plot bunny. So there might be an epilogue. In any case, I'm still planning to be completely finished by July and I hope to have another episode up next week. _


	28. Baron and Blackmail

_Back again! I've survived another semester so I hope to finish this story fairly quickly. As always, the location and (most of) the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. By the way, many thanks to all my lovely reviewers; I never expected to reach 300 but it gave me a much needed confidence booster during finals._

_Synopsis of previous episode: Tobe discussed his unsuccessful love life with Dalton, whose advice (once followed) solved the problem. Meanwhile, Alanna and Kel discussed kittens, motherhood, knighthood, and twins, giving Kel a few new perspectives on family life. This episode takes place a few months later, in early fall._

Penelope found Neal paging reverently through a newly bound volume when she came to his study after morning glaive practice with Yuki.

"Is it really finished?" she asked eagerly, coming to perch on the arm of his chair. In response, he gently closed the book so she could read the title: _A History of Tortall's Warrior Women._ It was the book he had been writing—with her help—for the past few years, all carefully recopied and neatly bound.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Yes," Neal said. "And since you've seen exactly how much effort has gone into this, I hope you'll be willing to wait at least ten years before doing anything to merit a chapter of your own. I need a break before I write the next edition."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Penelope told him, "Nessa and Kefira will probably want to help you with the writing in a few years."

Neal buried his forehead in his hands. "I'm afraid they'll be another chapter in and of themselves."

Penelope handed the book back to him with a consoling pat on the back and a condescending eye roll. "Are you going to give it to Mindelan when we get to the Swoop to help with fall camp?"

He only shrugged then and did not answer her properly until the next day when they set off on their journey from Queenscove to Pirates' Swoop.

"I'm not sure when I'll give it to her. I was thinking of saving it as a midwinter gift and—"

"But you are bringing it with you?" she asked hurriedly.

He nodded. "I'm not letting it out of my sight until I've given it to her. Not that I can actually look at it much, I'm too worried about dredging up all the imperfections."

"I think—" she began tentatively and waited for Neal's nod before continuing—"you should give it to her now. She's looked a little gloomy since Tobe left with the Riders. And that way you won't keep trying to rewrite the thing before midwinter." Penelope straightened herself in the saddle. "In fact, I might just tell her about it myself. Then she'll demand to see it and you won't have any choice in the matter."

"And I might just point out to Mindelan how easy it would be for an agile squire to drop from the balcony of the guest quarters and swing in through Dalton's window."

Penelope raised her eyebrows with speculative interest. "Is it really?" Then she frowned at him. "You wouldn't."

"All you have to do is climb down the gargoyle on the left hand side," he explained. And then added, "I would. I'm far too old to be aiding and abetting your assignations." He raised his chin haughtily. "Stalemate."

"Hardly," Penelope informed him, "I'll come up with something." Then she narrowed her eyes. "And how would you know how easy it is to slip from the guest balcony to the squire's room?"

"You don't honestly expect me to answer that one at his particular juncture?"

Penelope crinkled her nose in mock disgust. "You know I have higher standards of subtlety for my blackmail."

Neal grinned. "I know. I'm going to miss you next year."

"I'll miss you too. Now tell."

Neal sighed. "You see, when Lord and Lady Copperstream came to visit the Swoop, their eldest daughter—a rather bored and desperate but surprising athletic creature—happened (though I suspect the Baron might have had a hand in it) to be put in the room over mine and…"

All in all, it was a very informative and highly entertaining ride and Penelope was almost sorry to see it end when they arrived at the Swoop three days later.

MMMM

"They're here," Dalton called, setting down the staff head been using to demonstrate technique to a group of first year pages and running of across the Swoop's courtyard. Kel wasn't certain how he'd managed to spot their arrival amidst all the bustle of afternoon training, but she quickly excused herself and hurried after Dalton. Kefira, Dom, George, Alanna, and the pages (who were disregarding their orders to continue with their drills) all followed her.

She arrived just in time to see Dalton pull Penelope off her horse and spin her around, ending her giddy laughter with a kiss. George and Alanna let out wolf whistles and a few of the younger pages produced scandalized giggling. Kel winced before she remembered that Pirates' Swoop ran on different rules—Dom had kissed her in front of the pages the previous day and Alanna and George were notorious for their own displays—and decided that there was no need to lecture the two squires about proper decorum. Not, she reflected, that such a lecture would be effective, in any case.

Neal watched these proceedings with a bemused expression as he dismounted. "It hardly seems fair for the squire to get a more enthusiastic greeting than the knight," he muttered. Then he gave an undignified squawk as George and Dom lifted him suddenly onto their shoulders and began parading him around the courtyard.

Penelope knelt—with one of Dalton's hands on her shoulder—to hug Kefira before standing to shake hands with Alanna and Kel. Neal demanded to be put down and let out another loud squawk when George and Dom obeyed rather more hastily than he had expected and nearly dropped him.

Kel and Alanna managed, with some effort, to convince their husbands to stop tormenting Neal. With Dalton and Penelope's help, Kel managed to round up the pages and resume drills within a few minutes. Kel was glad to see many of the girls flock to Penelope (although one of the girls who had seemed to favor Dalton was now shooting her dirty looks) and just as glad to see that the squire seemed a more patient teacher this year. Kel suspected that her lessons for Roland and Dalton's influence—he'd always been a particularly good instructor—had something to do with the change but wisely refrained from commenting upon it. By the end of the afternoon, when it was time to dismiss the pages so that they could wash before supper, Kel felt confident that her fall training "camp" was off to an excellent start.

MMMM

Kel slept later than she'd meant to, waking just before the bell that would summon the pages for breakfast, and was surprised to see that Dom was already gone. She found him easily enough, however, by glancing out the window at the courtyard. There, she saw Dom dueling Penelope, Neal dueling Alanna, and George demonstrating some kind of knife throw to Dalton. Kefira sat watching the six of them intently.

"Dom lost of course," Neal informed Kel smugly when she met them for breakfast. But then he seemed to go strangely deaf when she asked how his match with Lady Alanna had ended. She was about to ask Neal more pointedly when Roland interrupted with a gentle tap on her elbow.

"Henry says Peter wasn't in his cot this morning, lady knight. And none of the first year boys has seen him since last night." Roland swallowed and shuffled on his feet. "Some of his gear's missing too."

Kel nodded numbly and counted the pages at the table with her eyes. They were, indeed, one short. She put a hand on Roland's shoulder and thanked him before giving him a gentle nudge towards his plate. Then she turned towards back towards Neal (whose momentary deafness had vanished completely) and the other adults.

"He's probably hiding somewhere," Neal assured her. "I'm sure there's no need to panic."

Dalton and Neal, who knew the Swoop well from their years as squires there, volunteered to make a quick sweep of likely hiding spots inside, while Alanna and George checked the grounds and Penelope searched the stables, leaving Dom and Kel to supervise the pages' breakfast. Kel maintained order and a cheerful expression, forcing herself to hide her worry.

Half an hour later, however, as the pages were beginning to toy restlessly with their silverware, all four searchers returned to report that they'd found no sign of Peter, though his horse remained in the stables.

"Cook says that a few loaves of bread and a dozen sweet biscuits vanished in the night," George added. "I'd say we have ourselves a runaway."

"But his horse," Penelope murmured, frowning. "Why wouldn't he have taken her?"

"I don't think Peter likes riding much, certainly not without servants to ready his horse for him," Kel muttered absently, "and he might not have been able to get a horse out the gate in any case." She shook her head and then stood. "Right, we'll probably find him fastest if we break into pairs." She pointed at Penelope and Dalton. "You two had better try to track him on foot. See if you can follow his trail before it starts raining—it looks like it's going to pour later."

The squires both nodded and Kel turned to the others, whom she felt slightly less comfortable delegating tasks to.

"If you four could sweep the woods on horseback—" Kel began.

"I'll stay with the lads and lasses," George assured her, stepping forward. "I know you want to be out searching yourself."

"I do, but are you sure you—"Dom clapped a hand over Kel's mouth to stop her protest.

"She's so grateful she can't find the words to thank you," he told George as he pulled Kel away to saddle their horses.

Alanna slung an arm around Neal's shoulders (or rather, the his upper back since she couldn't quite reach his shoulders). "Looks like we get to remember the good old days together."

Neal shrugged. "I always did enjoy making you feel old, perhaps today I can go for ancient."

Alanna scowled at her former squire and then turned towards her husband.

"Lady Keladry and I do not wish to find upon our return that you've trained a small army of young criminals in our absence," Alanna informed him.

MMMM

"What did Lady Alanna mean by that?" Penelope asked around mid-afternoon as she and Dalton tracked Peter's footprints along a path in the forest.

Dalton chuckled. "She's still a little bitter that he taught their children to pick pockets years ago. Of course, the fact that they're better at it than she is hasn't improved her temper." He sideways and wrapped an arm around her waist. "She needn't worry though, the Baron will probably only teach them a bit of street fighting. He teaches really useful skills like lock picking and pick pocketing to a carefully selected, clever and trustworthy, few."

"How do you know all this?"

Dalton raised his eyebrows and handed her a coin. She recognized it immediately as one from her belt pouch. She also thought it explained how Neal had managed to steal the last of the dried fruit from her saddlebag the previous month; the Baron had clearly had a hand in his education as well. "How did you—"

"I'll show you sometime. It's not difficult. It just takes lots of practice."

"Sounds familiar," she muttered. "We won't be having any children for you to tutor in criminal skills," she added.

"Are you sure?" he asked teasingly. "I think the Lioness said something similar once and—"

But he was interrupted by a distant shout and they both took off running down the path.

They found Peter (or at least Penelope assumed that he was Peter since there weren't supposed to be any other pages running loose in the woods) partway up a tree, clinging to a halfway broken branch and calling for someone to get him down. He was about fifteen feet up and Penelope had serious doubts about his ability to climb down for himself.

"Why can't the calm rational ones run away for us to rescue?" Dalton grumbled, when their requests for silence failed utterly.

"The girls, you mean," Penelope muttered, "well, they're all there because they actually want to be pages and become knights, running away would rather defeat the purpose."

Dalton rolled his eyes at her briefly before surveying the situation. "I can't imagine why, since you, my dear soon-to-be-lady-knight, are about to put seven years of training to use by climbing a tree and dropping a spoiled brat down so that I can catch him."

Penelope scowled at Dalton and then at the still screaming page, wishing that she weren't the obvious candidate for the ascent. She sighed and started for the trunk. "You're lucky I'm not bothered my heights."

"I believe we established that last night," Dalton murmured, kissing her cheekbone quickly before he cupped his hands around her knee and boosted her into the tree.

It took her only a few moments to reach Peter's branch. Unfortunately, his screams doubled in volume when she tried to nudge him away from the trunk in order to sit beside him.

"Please be quiet, Peter," she said in a gentle tone that she usually reserved for horses and small children, "or I shall be forced to knock you out of the tree."

Peter's jaws snapped shut and he turned to regard Penelope attentively. He had a few scrapes on his cheek but otherwise seemed to be more frustrated and bewildered by the lack of servants attending to his every whim than actually hurt.

"Good," she murmured soothingly, "now just scoot to the side a little." He obeyed hesitantly. "Easy does it." Penelope braced herself on the branch, eyeing the break warily. "Now give me your hands. I'm going to lower you down so that Dalton can help you." Peter gave a brief whimper when he realized his was dangling in midair. "He's very good about helping people," Penelope informed him, as Dalton winked to let her know that he was ready. "Even when they are too stubborn to ask for it," Penelope added as she released Peter.

Dalton caught the page easily and lowered him to the ground, just as a loud thunderclap shook the forest and the branch supporting Penelope suddenly snapped. She shrieked and grabbed a lower branch to stop her fall. After an awkward scramble during which she received an assortment of bruises and scrapes, she hit the ground with an inelegant thud.

"Are you hurt?" Dalton asked, pulling her to her feet.

"Not really, just a little—Mithros curse him," Penelope snarled as she saw Peter vanish into the thick underbrush. She and Dalton exchanged exasperated glances before diving after him.

Peter was faster than he looked, Penelope admitted to herself as she narrowly avoided tripping over a fallen log. And he'd had the sense—or the stupidity, she wasn't sure which—to abandon the path entirely. She could only hear him crashing through the brush ahead of her; he had actually made it out of their line of sight.

It began raining heavily then, cold, fat drops that somehow managed to penetrate the layers of leaves and trees. Dalton cursed the weather, but his voiced was drowned out be another scream—this one genuinely startled—from Peter. It was followed by an ominous silence and the two squires burst into a sprint. Which was a mistake on their part, Penelope realized, as they both toppled over the edge of a short ravine and into the creek bed beneath it.

MMMM

George surveyed the pages—who were all happily engaged in an outdoor food fight to practice "street fighting"—and the rain that was washing the mess out of the courtyard before it could settle with a satisfied smile. Then he beckoned Kefira, who nimbly ducked around the fight and trotted easily to him.

"Alright lass," George said, tucking a bright handkerchief—an easy first mark—halfway into his pocket. "Ready to learn something new."

The girl nodded, her eyes filled with her mother's intensity and her father's mischief. And George knew then that she was going to be one of his most successful students.

MMMM

Penelope came to a few moments later and found herself blinking blearily at the sky, wondering if her brains were oozing out the back of her head or if she just felt mud beneath her skull. She thought sitting up might be a good way to end the debate one way or another, but it seemed like too much effort. So she turned her head sideways instead and saw Dalton lying beside her with a large goose egg on his forehead. This frightened her into sitting up and checking his pulse.

He opened his eyes and stared groggily at her. "We're covered in mud," he observed, pushing himself into a sitting position. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I've been trampled by a centaur. You?"

"A whole herd—so, not much worse than after a particularly hard practice with the Lioness."

Penelope spat out a clump of mud and nodded dully as she glanced around the creek bed. "There's the little monster," she muttered when she spotted Peter lying unconscious a few feet away. Then she settled her head against Dalton's elbow and they sat together for a few moments, watching the rain fall.

"This place is probably going to flood in a few minutes," Dalton muttered absently. Indeed, there was already about an inch of water in the creek bed. And the banks on either side of them were slick walls of mud, getting out was going to be difficult.

"I suppose we ought not to let him drown." Penelope forced herself to her feet and gave Dalton a hand up. They wobbled together towards the source of their unpleasant afternoon.

"That idea you had earlier—about not having children—I think it was brilliant."

Penelope bent down to grab Peter's shoulders. "I don't know. He seems much sweeter now that he's unconscious."

"And much heavier too," Dalton muttered as they lifted him. "So what's your brilliant plan for getting us out of here."

Penelope blinked at him. "I thought it was your turn to be brilliant."

He blinked back. "Head injury. I ought to be excused." Then he sighed. "The best I can come up with is walking downstream until we—"

"find a surface that looks climbable," Penelope finished. "So, have you written your family? About us, I mean."

Dalton nodded as they began slogging downstream. "I got one of the usual 'you're-free-to-find-your-own-failure' letters from my father—which means he's not going to stop us or support us. I think my mother would like to meet you but doesn't want to tell my father so."

Penelope shrugged. "I got a 'marriage-is-a-bad-idea-for-noblewomen-because-you-will-loose-rights-to-your-estate-but-he-sounds-like-a-decent-fellow-and-I-can't-stop-you-from-marrying-him' letter from my aunt."

"Right then, I suppose we'd better elope."

Penelope grunted an agreement as she readjusted Peter's deadweight. "After our ordeals we can—Dom, here, we've found him!" she shouted

'We're down in the creek," Dalton called.

Dom dismounted and walked to the edge of the ravine. "How did you manage this?"

"Ask him." Penelope glared at Peter, who twitched in his sleep and settled his head on her shoulder.

Dom shook his head and then turned to call over his shoulder. "Kel? You packed the rope, right?"

Fortunately, she had. And the four of them, with much cursing, slipping, stumbling, and tugging, managed to transport Peter and the two squires to the top of the ravine. The rope, however, wound up covered in mud and impossibly knotted. Kel calmly pulled Peter—mud and all—onto the front of her saddle and rode with him while Penelope and Dalton walked—or rather hobbled on their stiff and bruised legs—behind the horses.

MMMM

"We're all wet and filthy," Neal muttered, as though personally offended, when he and Alanna found the group a short while later.

"I believe they still call it mud, Queenscove," Alanna told him. "I seem to remember we encountered a great deal of it during your squire years."

"We're quite alright, though," Penelope assured him. And then, as inspiration struck, she added, "I did bump my head though—during our fall—and I'm afraid I've been babbling a bit since then. Not sure what I've said really. I can't quite remember everything. And I've been talking an awful lot."

She'd actually been fairly silent and miserable, so Dalton shot her a questioning glance. She winked at him and mouthed the word "book".

He wasn't entirely sure what she was up to, so he muttered vaguely, "she did hit her head pretty hard. She's been going on quite a bit—something about you and a book."

"Yes," Dom added wickedly as he sensed the opportunity presenting itself. "She can't seem to stop talking about."

Neal glared at Penelope but she only raised her eyebrows innocently.

MMMM

So he gave the book to Kel that evening, dropping by her quarters and simply handing it to her without preamble once they had all cleaned up and Alanna had declared Peter to be "on the mend but probably never knight material to begin with."

Kel accepted it and read the first three pages in silence before hugging him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

"I—wow—Neal—this is quite the surprise—thanks—I promise never to mock your scholarly habits again." She grinned at him. "Though they're probably not the sort of bedtime story that will encourage Kefira to actually fall asleep."

Neal chuckled. "No, I cannot guarantee a soporific effect on small girls." He turned to leave and then glanced back at Kel. "I was going to wait for midwinter, but then…Penelope didn't actually give me away, did she?"

Kel shook her head. "She didn't say anything beyond "thanks for pulling us up" and "you might want to think about sending this one back to his parents". I don't think she could have managed without help from Dom and Dalton." She sprang forward and hugged Neal once more. "I'm glad she did though."

Neal found Penelope lurking outside the door with a smile on her face.

"That was a cheap shot, lady squire."

Penelope shrugged. "It got the job done. And you wouldn't have wanted me to waste an elaborate hoax, would you?"

MMMM

The book so delighted Kel that she forgot to act surprised when Penelope—in a moment of extreme absent mindedness, which suggested that she had injured her head the previous afternoon—emerged from Dalton's room just as Kel was passing it on the way to her morning glaive practice.

"Morning Penelope," she called absently. "I'll see you on the court in a few minutes."

Penelope swallowed back a startled laugh before agreeing.

Kel took a few more steps before swinging around suddenly. Penelope froze and glanced guiltily at Dalton's door. Kel chuckled.

"I trust you were more discrete over midwinter, lady squire. Pirates' Swoop runs on different rules, you know."

Penelope nodded stiffly. "How did you—"

"Last winter. You started showing up on time for morning practice the day after Alanna and Dalton left."

"Oh," Penelope said. Then she muttered something that contained the words "Neal", "blackmail", and "payback".

"Come along," Kel said cheerfully. "I find that morning glaive work is ideally suited to plotting vengeance."

George listened to this exchange with a triumphant smile. He briefly considered warning Queenscove but then decided he had more urgent matters to attend to. He immediately approached his wife with an outstretched palm.

"Cough up," he ordered. "I told you she knew all along."

Alanna narrowed her eyes and demanded hot tea and proof (both of which George provided, along with several kisses) before she was willing to concede defeat.

_Thanks for reading and feel free to review. Next episode—which should be up in a few days—is the first half of the grand finale so Penelope and Dalton will be facing their ordeals. _


	29. Milestones

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last episode. I'm also sorry to see the story ending, but I hope you'll enjoy reading the finale as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Of course, setting and (most) characters belong to Tamora Pierce. _

_Synopsis of previous episode: Neal finished his book and Penelope pranked—er, coaxed him into giving it to Kel, after she and Dalton spent a very trying afternoon tracking down a runaway page. _

"Have a good ride?" Neal asked his squire as she stepped through the infirmary door.

It was a stupid question really; she had been out with Dalton, after all. Her braid was wind-tossed, her cheeks were reddened, and her eyes were bright. But she only nodded mutely.

"You're nervous," he muttered. Apparently it was his afternoon for stating the blatantly obvious.

She nodded again and glanced out the window—as if she hadn't just come inside—gauging the hours until sundown. He sighed and shoved aside his chart, beckoning her closer. She walked over and gripped the corner of the desk with her left hand.

"I know we've avoided talking about it," she said. Her voice, uncharacteristically, was almost a squeak. "But is there a plan? For me, I mean, with the bath and—"

"Apparently, you're not the only one who thinks I'm incapable of handling these things. Both the Lioness and Mindelan have already offered their opinions on the matter."

Penelope relaxed slightly and hopped up to sit on the corner of his desk.

"Both of the lady knights were instructed in the code after they bathed. And their ordeals seem to have been normal—well, not typical—the Chamber seems to have had rather expected rather exceptional destinies for them—but successful anyway." Neal tweaked her nose and was reward by a tiny smile. "So after you bathe, the Lioness and I will instruct you in the code." She blinked at him. "And yes, you will be the first knight—other than my illustrious self, of course—that she has instructed since her own ordeal."

"But—"

"Mindelan and I discussed the matter at some length and we decided that Lady Alanna's presence would be beneficial. And, then, you have already been at the heart of so many scandals that she is unlikely to cause another. She is the king's champion, you know, and well-respected by a majority of the court."

"Oh," Penelope said softly.

"And of course, I'll be returning the favor tomorrow night and instructing Dalton while he bathes—a sight you would presumably enjoy far more than I will but won't have opportunity to witness."

Penelope rolled her eyes.

"Especially," he continued, "since I plan to have you tucked in bed by sundown tomorrow so that you can be well-rested to greet Dalton when he emerges from the chamber."

"If—"

Neal grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. "No ifs. You will both be fine." He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I was just going to say that if that's everything, perhaps I should go try to get a little rest." She twitched her nose pointedly at his grip on her chin.

"No perhapses," he said, releasing her chin and pulling her down from the desk. "You need to sleep. It's about five hours until sunset; I'll wake you in time to try eating something beforehand."

"Thanks," she muttered. "For everything, I mean, all four years of it," she added as she made her way to the door.

"Three years, eight months," he corrected. And she smiled back at him as she shut the door.

He sighed and attempted to return to his paperwork. It seemed an impossible feat. He was entirely too distracted. It wasn't that he feared she would fail, it was that he wanted so badly for her to succeed. And that their years together were coming to an end.

He had just found his place in his inventory column when the door opened again.

"Sir," Penelope began tentatively.

Neal blinked. She hadn't called him 'sir' for years, except when she was being cheeky, of course.

"I need to ask you something." She fidgeted as she spoke, shuffling her feet and twisting her hands together.

"Go on then," he urged, pushing back his chair and standing to approach her.

She bit her lip and bobbed her head before letting all of her words out in a jumbled rush. "I—Dalton and I are going to be married the day after tomorrow if—after his ordeal that is. Only I haven't any family to—and his family knows but his father isn't thrilled with the match so they won't come—and we need witnesses for the ceremony and—"

Fortunately she ran out of breath and Neal was able to sneak in a few words. "I'd be honored to present you if you like." He saw her nod tightly, too nervous or too relieved to speak, and pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks," she whispered. Neal glanced down and found that she'd left a few tearstains on his shirt. His eyes weren't completely dry either if he were honest with himself. "I knew you would, only I didn't like to have to ask for…" She trailed off and wiped her face on her own sleeve, stepping back and nodding at him once she had pulled herself together.

"Look," he said, "it's not many squires that manage their knight masters this happy and proud the day before they earn their shields. And I'll enjoy watching all the conservatives who can't manage to marry off their perfectly conventional daughters trying to wrap their minds around your success." He bent slightly to kiss her forehead.

She shrugged cheerfully. "Glad to oblige, sir. Even if it means you have to devote another day to my supervision."

He nodded once before surveying her sternly and taking her by the elbow to lead her to the door. "Now, you are to proceed directly to your nap," he ordered, giving her a light shove towards the squires' wing.

Neal hummed cheerfully as he tidied up his paperwork. He was mature enough to recognize that there was little chance he would accomplish anything productive that afternoon and sensible enough not to try. He was in the midst of pouring himself a mug of tea when the door opened again.

"Penelope," he called, without bothering to look, "I thought I told you to—"

"Neal," Kel said and he turned to blink at her. "I'd forgotten that her vigil was tonight. I can come back another time if you're busy."

"No," Neal said quickly. It would take a serious matter to make Kel overlook Penelope's upcoming ordeal. "Actually, I'd welcome the distraction. Though I thought you knew that I cleaned up Roland and sent him back to his room this morning. None of your pages are here."

"I know," Kel said calmly, seating herself on the edge of a cot. "I came for myself actually. I wanted to ask you--."

"Oh." Neal swallowed and pulled up a chair so that he could sit near her.

Kel dropped her gaze to one of his knees and began speaking. "I've been sick every morning the past week. And everything feels—is just like the last time, with Kefira. And I'm fairly certain that—"

"Oh," Neal repeated, and she stopped talking. He blinked and glanced at her neck. "You're not wearing—"

"I took it off months ago."

"I didn't notice."

Kel smiled. "I would have been rather disturbed if you had noticed."

Neal's fingers twitched as he extended one hand towards her. "Do you mind if I…"

"That's what I came for," Kel said, lifting the hem of her shirt to expose her abdomen.

She felt a brief tickling sensation as his fingers touched her and her heart leapt at the brief flash of green gift.

"Yes, definitely pregnant," Neal muttered, smiling tentatively as he drew his hand away. "Probably due in about seven months." Then he saw that she was smiling back at him and he allowed his features to spill into a wide grin.

Though her smile was small and quiet, as Kel's smiles often were, Neal thought there was something particular captivating about this one. Something about her eyes, he decided, suggested that she was positively radiating joy and contentment.

"Thanks," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"This is wonderful," he said and he wasn't sure whether he meant her pregnancy or her smile but decided it didn't matter. He grabbed Kel's arms to pull her off the cot and spin her around, both of them laughing.

"Does Dom know?" he asked, pulling her into a hug.

"No," she muttered. "I wanted to be certain. That's why I came to you first. I knew I could trust you to tell me without making a fuss. You were so good about—well, everything last time."

"So were you," he muttered. "Well, brave anyway if not always sweet-tempered. I must admit it's easier giving the news when you know it's welcome."

Kel made a wet noise against his shirt that was half-laugh, half-sob. "Thanks, Neal. Really, for everything, for teaching me to trust myself at this. I—we, Kefira and Dom and me, would never have made it this far without you."

"Yes, you would have," Neal assured her. "Only it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun." He glanced down at his twice tear-stained shirt with a resigned sigh. "Go ahead and wipe your nose on it if you need to," he told her, "the gods seem to have assigned it an ignoble destiny for the day."

Kel responded by pulling her own handkerchief out of her belt and wiping her face on that instead.

Neal rolled his eyes and stepped back into a more businesslike pose. "Do you need tea for the nausea?" He began gathering dried herbs without waiting for her to nod.

"Neal, I'm not entirely sure yet how I'm going to manage this." Kel spoke quietly but she still sounded calm and confident. "I'll have to tell the king, soon, I know. How long do you think I can keep up with the pages' morning training?"

"So long as you feel up to it, without exhausting yourself," he told her, knowing it would be pointless to suggest otherwise. "You managed running a refugee camp and keeping Dom a secret the last time around. And now you can wake Dom and have him come and fetch me if you need me in the middle of the night, which I'm going to make you promise to do."

Kel nodded. "And I suppose Wyldon might let me borrow Selena if I need an assistant," she said thoughtfully. "Though that will mean telling Wyldon." She winced slightly before shrugging. Then she grinned wildly, thanked him again, and snatched the jar of herbs from his hands before hurrying to find Dom.

MMMM

Dalton greeted Penelope in the squires' corridor with a kiss and a raised eyebrow. She tucked herself comfortably under his arm before answering his unspoken question.

"He agreed," Penelope murmured happily. "And the Lioness?" She asked unlocking her door.

"She asked me which of us proposed and was very disappointed when I couldn't give her a straight answer. We're forgiven of course, and she'll come witness, but apparently we've wrought havoc on a certain betting pool."

"Serves them right for betting on us," she muttered cheerfully, tugging him into the room after her. She sat down on the bed and began unlacing her boots.

"I should go," he said reluctantly, bending to kiss her again. "You need sleep."

"So do you." She wrapped an arm around him to keep him from leaving. "And we've already established that the bed is big enough for two."

"I can't argue with your logic," he muttered, kneeling to pull off her boots. "I suppose if I tried you'd threaten to pace yourself into exhaustion after I left."

"I hadn't thought of that," Penelope said, "but it's an excellent idea." She pulled off her tunic and curled up on top of the quilt.

Dalton gave a sigh a mock resign as he removed his own boots and tunic. "I suppose I ought to see you properly settled at least, since you haven't even bothered to tuck yourself in." He grabbed a blanket from her trunk as he climbed onto the bed, wrapping it around both of them as he pulled her into his arms.

"Much better," she whispered settling her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, glad that she would have this moment of being warm and safe and content to remember during her ordeal.

Dalton smiled as her breathing softened.

Her eyes popped open a moment later though. "I think I might be too happy to sleep," she confessed. "I was nervous before, but now I feel ready, excited to get the ordeal over with so that I—we can go on with our lives together."

Dalton resisted the urge to tell her that Alanna had offered—among other things—to lobby with the King to get the two of them (since they would be sharing) one of the large corner rooms in the wing that housed young knights. That sort of planning would have to wait a few more days.

"at least close your eyes," he ordered, rubbing the tense muscles of her neck until they loosened. "So you can be ready and rested in a few hours."

She obeyed, yawning despite herself. And within a few moments her breathing had softened once more. Dalton told himself he would wait to leave until she was properly asleep, but his eyes fell shut before he could summon the will to get up.

MMMM

Unfortunately, it took Kel rather longer than she had hoped to find Dom since she had gone straight to Own Headquarters, unaware that Dom had left work early and returned to their quarters, looking for her. Eventually, however, she met him in their living room.

"Hello, I was just about to go collect Kefira from Daine and Numair," he said as she stepped inside. "Where have you been?"

"I had to visit the infirmary," Kel told him. "And then I was looking for you."

Dalton took a worried step towards her. "You're not ill are you?"

Kel felt a grin threatening to split her face as she shook her head. "I—we're fine, wonderful, in fact."

Dom scanned her face briefly and then grinned back at her. "You mean you're—"

Kel nodded. Apparently, they were both too happy for words. Dom pulled her into his arms and kissed her and then spun her around just as Neal had. This, Kel thought to herself, is so much nicer than last time.

"I want to keep it quiet for another month or so," Kel told him, "while I warn Wyldon and the king and figure out how I'm going to manage the pages' training and everything."

He nodded. "Well then, it's a good thing we're mostly incapable of speech."

MMMM

Neal tapped gently on Penelope's door and then opened it when he received no answer. Dalton woke just as he stepped inside, lifting his head to blink sleepily at Neal. They nodded at each other and then Dalton brushed his lips past Penelope's cheekbone and shook her shoulder gently.

"Hey," Dalton whispered. "It's time."

Penelope sat bolt upright and nodded at both of them. She stretched deliberately and pulled on her tunic. Dalton passed her her boots and her fingers shook only slightly as she laced them up.

"Here," Neal said, handing her a napkin full of the spiced midwinter cakes that were her particular favorites. "I thought something sweet might go down better."

Penelope sighed. "It's almost a pity I'm finishing now that I've got you so well-trained."

Neal chuckled. "Alanna said the same thing just before my ordeal." He watched her eat a cake with small deliberate bites before adding, "and if you think I'm finished with you, my-dear-soon-to-be-no-longer-a-squire, I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken."

Penelope managed to smile as she bit into another cake. Then she stood and brushed her hands clean.

Dalton pulled her into a quick hug and mumbled, "love you, see you tomorrow morning." Then he kissed her and fled, as though afraid a lingering goodbye might be too difficult.

Penelope nodded at Neal and laced her fingers trustingly through his as they set off down the corridor together.

MMMM

Since there wasn't any tradition to regulate their behavior as they waited for Penelope to finish bathing, Neal and Alanna considered themselves free to attend to an important matter of business.

"I understand Keladry visited the infirmary this afternoon," Alanna said pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

Neal ducked his head, dug out a coin, and passed it to her. "You were right. She is. If you ask me, though, it's not very sporting to use your women's intuition."

She somehow managed to looked down her nose at him even though he was nearly a foot taller. "I did not ask you. And 'women's intuition' had nothing to do with it. Do you have any idea how rarely I manage to beat her with the glaive. Last week was the first time she's lost to me since before Kefira was born. If you made a habit of waking early, you might have seen it for yourself." Alanna sighed loftily and then her face softened. "And then there's the fact that she's absolutely glowing."

Neal smiled. "_That _I did notice this afternoon."

Alanna nodded. "How is she?"

"She's a little worried about managing all her responsibilities, but I'm sure she'll arrange something clever. And, aside from morning sickness—I gave her tea, of course—she's as fit as ever. The baby's healthy too, as far as I could tell."

"Mindelan's pregnant?"

They both turned to find Penelope straightening her simple white clothing.

Alanna nodded slowly and winked once. "Remember, knights are not to speak of anything they learn between their bath and the moment they emerge from the ordeal." She pointed a stern finger at Penelope. "Particularly not if they are so insistent upon keeping their own marriage plans secret for the next two days." She dropped her hand and assumed a formal stance. "Are you prepared to be instructed in the code of chivalry."

Penelope nodded. "I am."

MMMM

Neal, Alanna, and Dalton sat with Kel—the only one of them who successfully refrained from fidgeting—as they waited for Penelope to emerge from the Chamber. Lord Wyldon sat nearby, his eyes fixed intently upon the door.

At last, it opened and she staggered out, shivering as she recalled the Chamber's words: _the world will test you far more thoroughly than I can and much depends upon your passing it's tests, lady knight. _

She had a large collection of bruises and scrapes and a strange burn mark on her right hand fingers, but otherwise looked unharmed.

"Are you alright?" Dalton asked, hugging her as he wrapped a blanket about her shoulders.

But she could only nod and scan the familiar features of his face happily. Her jaws were so tightly clenched that she could not open them to speak.

"That happens occasionally when they come out," Wyldon told them from a few paces away. "It is only muscle tension. I suggest you use your Gift, Queenscove."

Neal nodded and stepped behind her so that she would not have to leave Dalton's embrace. He set his fingertips beneath her ears, applying Gift and warmth until the muscles loosened enough to allow movement.

"Thanks," she muttered, and then, "it wasn't too much worse than I expected."

Liar Neal rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Guilty," Penelope admitted and she added quickly, " I'm tired, cold, and hungry. And everything hurts. And I'm currently weak as a kitten and not entirely certain where I am in relation to the floor. But all things considered, that's not so bad."

Dalton and Neal nodded at each other as they each took a arm and began escorting her back to her room. There, she consumed an enormous bowl of stew and sizable hunks and bread and cheese, much to the consternation of Dalton, who found that his appetite had abandoned him completely.

Neal took out the dish and returned to find them both lying on their stomachs, heads turned toward one another. They stayed that way for the rest of the day, not talking—because they couldn't talk about the only thing on their minds—but simply waiting with their fingers interlaced. Penelope liked knowing that neither of them had to say anything—they were comfortably simply being—but she rather suspected that Dalton would eventually find out what she had seen, one way or another.

Penelope was the first to sit up a short while before sunset. "You should go eat something and report to Lady Alanna. And I'm in dire need of a hot bath."

They walked together down the squires' corridor. "Thanks for waiting with me," he told her.

She smiled. "Just returning the favor." They kissed and she set her cheek briefly over his heart. "See you in the morning," she whispered and then she forced herself to walk away so that he could focus.

MMMM

There was a small banquet in Penelope's honor after she received her shield (with a blue distaff, of course). Kel found that she could not stop smiling. The thought that another young woman had been able to follow in her footsteps—or, as Alanna might put it, forge a similar path for herself—was immensely gratifying and the idea that Kel had actually helped her to do was just as pleasing. And then there was the tender expression on Dom's face as he watched her eat, which made Kel feel as though she might melt with happiness.

Penelope herself seemed rather subdued, muttering once that she would have "more to celebrate" the next night. Kel thought this was taking her love for Dalton to a bit of an extreme, but Alanna and Neal—whom Kel had previously caught wiping his eyes on his sleeve during Penelope's dubbing—merely nodded sympathetically. Despite her distraction, Penelope spent most of the evening talking quietly with Selena—who had dragged Lord Wyldon to the party—and patiently playing checkers with Kefira and Sarralyn.

Kel was rather surprised to see Wyldon there and she resolved to tell him about her condition and consult with him about finding an assistant. Unfortunately, however, she was too busy plying Daine with questions about the whereabouts of Tobe's Rider Group (which hadn't yet made it back for midwinter) to notice Wyldon slipping out early.

"It might be better to tell him another night," Dom muttered as they carried Kefira back to their rooms. "I don't think he drank much tonight."

Kel nodded thoughtfully as she chased the four cats off Kefira's cot so that Dom could deposit her there. "And when do we tell her?"

Dom shrugged and then kissed Kefira's forehead as he tucked her in. "Soon, I think. I imagine she'll be as happy as I am."

_To be continued…Very soon hopefully, though I am writing it amidst the mild chaos of starting my summer internship. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	30. Plans and Predictions

_Wow! I can't believe this is the final episode, but I think we're ending on a good note. Thanks to all the amazing reviewers whose encouragement kept this story going way longer than I expected it to (I was originally planning on 10 chapters) and who have inspired me to think seriously about sequels. As always, location and most characters belong to Tamora Pierce. _

_Synopsis of previous episode: Neal learned about Penelope's upcoming wedding and Kel's pregnancy. _

Dalton emerged pale and trembling from the chamber the next morning. He flew straight at Penelope, who sprinted up to greet him, and they kissed passionately enough to make Wyldon cough uncomfortably and George whistle loudly. Alanna scowled at both men—who bumped shoulders in their hurry to step out of her way and then jumped away from each other as though scorched—and tapped Dalton gently on the shoulder.

He disentangled himself and allowed her to check him for injuries. Aside from a burn mark across his left fingers—the twin to Penelope's, Alanna realized when she examined it—he appeared unharmed. She decided that the Chamber was growing perverse and meddlesome in its old age, but didn't mention it aloud. Neal would either worry or tell her she was the pot calling the kettle black and she didn't relish either possibility.

She sighed and beckoned Neal to help Penelope drag Dalton back to his room.

MMMM

"No need for you to ask what I saw," Dalton muttered, pressing his palm to Penelope's as soon as Neal stepped out to find food.

"No," she agreed quietly, as they interlaced their fingers so that a single mark appeared across the back of their hands. "Do you think it was showing us the future?"

Dalton shook his head. " I hope not. I think it might have been more metaphorical."

"Even if it is our destiny, well, then, forewarned is forearmed." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "And obviously the Chamber wants us to win."

"So good to know we have a bloodthirsty room behind us," Dalton said.

They instinctively pulled their hands apart when Neal returned a short while later. And then they were too happy and too busy eating to talk of anything at all. Dalton very nearly fell asleep in his empty bowl and Neal chased Penelope out with the promise that he would see them both at the chapel in a few hours.

Penelope was making an impatient, but rather aimless, circuit of the practice courts when Alanna cornered her with a suspiciously soft and lumpy parcel.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to wear a dress, lady knight." The Lionness's expression as she deposited the bundle in Penelope's arms and began dragging her back to her room was almost gleeful and Penelope immediately opened her mouth to protest. "I had to wear one at mine," Alanna continued, "and, more importantly, the queen is going to demand a detailed account of the ceremony—attire included—and I'll have an easier time giving it if I don't have to explain that you were wearing old practice clothes."

Penelope blinked and glanced down, realizing she hadn't changed since her brief morning exercise before Dalton's ordeal. "You're sacrificing me at the altar of convenient gossip?"

"More or less," Alanna agreed. "But I'm not abandoning you completely. I have a very practical and trustworthy dressmaker—she understands needs like breathing and eating and walking—and I demanded a very simple gown—for ease of description and mobility."

Penelope rolled her eyes skeptically as Alanna shoved her into her room.

"Just trust me."

Penelope began unwrapping the dress and sighed with relief when she found that it was a soft blue color and completely devoid of lace and ruffles. Something heavy fell from the package and landed with a soft thump on her bed.

"Oh, it's beautiful." Penelope lifted the dagger that had rolled out of the dress and examined it with a reverent expression. It was sharp and slim and stamped with the mark of Raven Armory.

Alanna chuckled softly.

"The dress and slippers are lovely too," Penelope assured her. Though when she tried the dress on she decided that "lovely" didn't really do it justice. It fit perfectly, draping gracefully in all the right places. When she spun around and glanced in the looking glass she found that she appeared feminine and elegant, but her everyday practical and athletic self was still quite recognizable.

"Yes," Alanna muttered. "You are beautiful. Try not to let it go to your head."

Penelope smiled and pulled on the slippers. They also fit perfectly, but they seemed comfortable and sturdy enough to run miles in.

"Who appointed you my fairy godsmother?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't think Neal was particularly well qualified," Alanna explained. "And I have years of experience fair godsmothering—I rather enjoy it to tell you the truth. Just don't ask to see my wings."

MMMM

"I had no idea she could scrub up so well," Neal muttered to Dalton as they waited for Alanna and Penelope to finish consulting with on of the priestesses of the Goddess. He'd seen Penelope in a dress only a handful of times and she'd always been pretty—she had an attractive liveliness about her even when she was in sweaty practice clothes—but he'd never seen her quite so breathtaking.

"I didn't either," Dalton whispered back. "I think the Lioness had something to do with it."

"A word of advice—"

Dalton rolled his eyes. "I know better than to tell her that."

Neal rolled his eyes back. " I was going to suggest that you not thank Lady Alanna, Excess gratitude makes her nervous."

Then, as though they knew they were being discussed, Alanna and Penelope both turned their heads and raised their eyebrows before strolling slowly back so that the priest could begin the ceremony.

The ceremony itself was quite brief and rather quiet, though Penelope remembered very few details after it was over. Neal also thought it passed in a bit of a blur, but he later decided it had been one of the most intimate and the happiest weddings he had ever attended. It was not the strangest—that honor went to Daine and Numair—however, it was rather atypical.

No rings were exchanged, because both bride and groom objected to anything that interfered with their ability to grip sword hilts. And the Mithran priest—a plump and practical old man—took one look at the four of them and wisely adjusted the speech so as to emphasize duty and fidelity, rather than purity, nobility, and fertility.

At first, Neal suspected this amendment had something to do with the knife hilt whose outline appeared beneath Alanna's skirt every time she took a particularly large step, but once the priest ended by muttering " I fancy you two have heard enough drivel about chivalry in the past two days to be getting on with." Then he turned to Penelope and added, "now hurry up and kiss him properly—none of this check pecking nonsense—the poor novices haven't had anything to gossip about in weeks—this has been lovely but I have quite a bit to do this afternoon—busy time of year, you know."

MMMM

Alanna bit her lip as she knocked sharply on Wyldon's door. His fingers tightened on the doorknob when he recognized her and he cleared his throat with a faint growl.

"Did you get my note?" she asked.

He nodded silently.

"And?"

He sighed. "Selena is looking forward to going."

"You know that's not what I meant," Alanna snapped.

"Indeed, pray tell me, what did you mean? You're being remarkable reticent for a woman famed for her bluntness."

"Will you be there?" she muttered.

"Undoubtedly not." He spoke each syllable as though it were a jab in the side.

Alanna fixed her eyes on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Whatever for? You certainly don't want me there."

Alanna nodded. "I don't. But I know that Penelope appreciates your—admittedly rather belated—fairness and Dalton respects you. I think they would want you there. And I believe it would do Mindelan good to see you supporting her former charges. This is the first lot she's seen all the way from page to knight, you know." She pulled her chin up and glared at him. "So, come," she snarled, before turning to leave.

"I don't take orders from you, lady knight."

Alanna glanced back at him "That was an invitation. Don't make me issue an order."

Fortunately, Selena appeared beside Wyldon at that moment and mouthed "he'll be there" as she ushered her knightmaster back inside.

MMMM

"They what?" Dom sputtered.

"You heard me, skinflint," Neal said, offering his empty palm. "They married. I'm happy to fetch the priest—or the bride—if you don't trust my word as witness."

Dom scowled and deposited a coin in Neal's hand. "It's not the money. It's the principle of loosing to my half-mad cousin." He shook his head. "Remind me not to bet against the young lovers next time—unless they're star-crossed, in which case all bets are off."

Neal nodded. "I'll be happy to. After all, I'm still planning to cash in on Tobe and whats-her-name."

"Tessa," Dom muttered.

"See. He's told you her name. That means something."

"Actually, I learned it when she beat me at target practice. Don't ever challenge her at archery, by the way; she will win. I think she might be better than Daine."

"I'll take that under advisement," Neal said. "You and Kel will come to our little gathering tonight?"

Dom nodded. "We'll be there early. I suspect it's going to be a historic occasion."

MMMM

A few hours later, Kel's family had the unique experience of following Lord Wyldon—who walked stiffly with Selina on his arm, as though her were escorting her to a ball—into the Lioness's family's quarters. Inside, she was unsurprised to find Neal's family and Penelope had already gathered, but she was rather surprised find Penelope wearing a dress.

"Congratulations," Kel told Dalton. "You're looking well. Did you have a restful afternoon?"

"Not exactly," Dalton muttered, as though he found the question strange.

"You didn't tell her!" Neal scolded Dom, just as George said, "I heard it was a quiet ceremony, but since they eloped, I wouldn't know."

It took Kel a moment to process both of these statements. Then she turned an astonished gaze towards her former students, resolving to have a few words with Dom regarding, "full disclosure".

"You what? That's wonderful." Then another thought crossed her mind and she narrowed her eyes at Penelope. "You aren't pregnant are you?"

Dalton shot Penelope an extremely panicked glance and seemed to forget how to breathe. Wyldon—who had taken a fortifying goblet of wine immediately upon entering—swallowed the wrong way and gave a tremendous hacking cough. Alanna pounded both of them on the back as Penelope raised her eyebrows and gently shook her head—at which point Dalton remembered about inhaling and exhaling, though Wyldon continued to sputter weakly.

"I wonder why such an idea should occur to you, lady knight," Penelope murmured innocently as she easily ducked the hand Neal tried to plaster over her mouth.

Kel blushed slightly, but was saved by Lady Alanna telling Neal—or perhaps Penelope—"it's a pity it takes so long to train them properly."

It was not until much later—after their meal, after Kefira had disappeared with Sarra and Nessa for a wild game of tag, and after Dom, Neal, George, Dalton, Yuki, Raoul, Buri, and Alanna had settled into an even wilder game of cards—that Kel sought out Wyldon and found him deep in conversation with the Wildmage.

"What are they talking about?" she wondered aloud.

"Horses," Numair informed her.

"Or dogs," Selena, who was waiting beside Numair, added.

"Probably both," Numair muttered. "They talk about archery every once in a while—"

"but never for more than two minutes at a stretch." Selena finished. And then she and Numair returned to their own conversation about the possibility of using magic to create lightweight metal for armor and weapons.

Fortunately, Kitten gave an impatient whistle a few moments later and bid Wyldon farewell so that she could attend to the dragon. Kel swallowed and took a few steps toward Wyldon. She realized that Selena was at her elbow and paused.

"Do you need anything, lady knight?"

Kel hesitated and then nodded. "I want you to pour a stiff brandy—"

"I didn't know you dran—"

"and then watch Wyldon's face from a distance and bring it if—when he turns red—or if he seems likely to start shouting," Kel continued. "Can you manage that?'

Selena raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Luck be with you, lady knight. And don't make any inane weather comments—the damp has been bothering his arm lately."

Kel nodded and gave Selena a small salute before marching to the window where Wyldon stood.

"Might I have a word with you, sir?"

"You've just had several, Mindelan, and all you have done with them is warn me that you have more to say." The left corner of his mouth twitched upward—just barely—as he spoke.

"Sorry, sir," Kel muttered.

Lord Wyldon tilted his head slightly and—to Kel's great amazement—lifted a single eyebrow. "Indeed, Mindelan, that was a single, if inexplicable, word, though it came with a rather long, and also inexplicable, introduction."

"I'm pregnant," Kel murmured.

Wyldon's jaw stiffened momentarily and he blinked rapidly at her. But he continued breathing steadily and no implosion or explosion seemed imminent, so Kel decided it was safe to continue.

"Queenscove thinks I'm going to deliver about a month past midsummer. Dom and I thought we should inform you first because—"

Lord Wyldon lifted a hand to stop her. "Pardon the interruption Mindelan," he muttered. Then he shouted across the room, "Raoul, you owe me five nobles. And Selena, that brandy won't be necessary. A small glass of wine should suffice."

Kel found herself staring at her former training master. "You knew."

He shook his head. "Your timing was unexpected. I made a few hopeful guesses based upon your overpowering desire to nurture and your apparent predilection for undertaking thankless tasks. Admittedly, I rather admire said traits and therefore wish to offer you my congratulations." He smiled at her bewildered expression.

And then his face adopted a bewildered expression of its own as Kel pulled him into a sudden hug and buried her face against his chest. He stroked her hair tentatively and smiled nervously at Dom, Alanna, and the others—who had given up their card game to watch.

"Am I the only one who has no idea what's going on?" Dalton asked. Numair, and Kitten—presumably that was what the whistle meant—assured him that he was not just as George explained the matter.

"How did you know?" Alanna demanded.

"Well, you're knowing smile raised my suspicions and Penelope confirmed them. And then, of course, there is only one running bet between Wyldon and Raoul. Although Raoul, in fact, only owes Wyldon four nobles because Wyldon lost a previous bet concerning the recent marriage of a certain pair of knights."

"So good to have a thief keeping us all honest," Raoul muttered.

Kel shook her head and turned back to Wyldon, who was openly glaring at George. "So I was wondering," she continued, as though she hadn't been interrupted, "if you might let me borrow Selena a bit during the coming months—as an assistant."

"That," Wyldon told her with mock severity, "is entirely up to Selena. I, however, consider it highly advisable and also suggest that you make use of the newlyweds, since I understand that they'll be stuck here for the next few years. Goodness knows I would rather see them helping you then gadding about flaunting conventions."

Kel nodded thoughtfully and then looked back at Penelope and Dalton—who were sharing an armchair—and at Selena who was leaning one hip against the table and waiting with Wyldon's wine. Penelope and Dalton glanced at each other and then back at her; Selena blinked calmly. And Kel began thinking about what it would be like to have three competent assistants. Very relaxing, she decided, and quite justifiable given the small influx of pages—now that more girls were coming—and the fact that Wyldon had often hired Shang warriors to assist with training. Penelope and Dalton would be coming and going from the palace, but if things stayed peaceful they'd be home more often than not and Kel could…

"You don't have to ask, lady knight," Selena told her.

"We'll do almost anything for room and board," Penelope said.

"with the noted exception of retrieving lost pages from trees," Dalton added hastily.

Wyldon blinked mildly. "I was given to understand that Peter's parents decided the rigors of palace training were unsuitable for their beloved child."

"Indeed," Kel muttered, grinning gratefully.

Later still—when the girls had gathered in a sleepy heap on top of Silverspot and the card game had wound down into quiet conversation as the adults gazed at the fire—George decided it was time to voice the question that must surely be on everyone's mind.

"So lady knight Keladry, boy or girl?"

Kel blinked. "I haven't thought…"

"Yes, of course you haven't." George rubbed his palms together. "But it's of great financial import to the rest of us." He straightened himself in his chair and glanced around. "So let's hear your guesses then and"—he paused and stared pointedly at Neal and Alanna—"no cheating with healing gift or taking advantage of privileged status as a favorite of the Goddess."

"Fine." Alanna glanced once at Kel and then at Kefira. "Fine. Girl."

"That's just what she wants," Neal muttered. "Boy," he pronounced.

"Boy," Dom agreed. "But that's probably wishful thinking."

"Girl," Yuki said, raising her eyebrows wickedly at Neal.

Beside her Daine said, "I think I might have to go with boy since they have a girl already."

"Ah, but statistically speaking, Magelet," Numair murmured, "the gender of the first child has no influence on the gender of the second, therefore, they are just as likely to have a girl."

"Was that your bet?" George demanded.

Numair glanced from Daine's scowl to George's eager eyes and shook his head. "I think I'll refrain from making one."

Wyldon gave a long sigh and looked from Kel to Kefira to Dom. "Girl," he said confidently. " Does Keladry have an opinion?"

Kel shook her head with a bemused snort.

"Of course she has one," Buri grumbled. "She's just too polite to tell half of us we're wrong." She tossed a date into the air, caught it, and studied it for a moment before pronouncing, "boy."

Raoul shrugged. "Girl."

And then Kefira surprised them all by piping up, " I would prefer a boy, Mama. I think a little brother would be easier to manage."

"I shall take that under consideration," Kel said gently, and then she glanced curiously at Penelope and Dalton.

"Well," said Dalton, "I'm well aware that older sisters are not to be tangled with. Boy."

Penelope rolled her neck and waited for them all to turn impatiently towards her before declaring crisply, "girl." She smiled and settled her head back on Dalton's shoulder. "It's quite simple really. Someone relatively wise"—she glanced pointedly at Neal—"once told me that Lord Wyldon and Lady Alanna are both always right, even when one of them is wrong. So, it must be virtually impossible for both of them to be wrong at the same time, particularly when they're both sitting on the same couch." Indeed, Wyldon and Alanna were at opposite ends of the same couch, though Yuki and Neal were sitting between them.

Wyldon and Alanna glanced once at each other and then growled simultaneously, "Queenscove!"

Neal scrambled off the couch as they both reached for him. "Traitor!" he hissed at Penelope. He glared at Kel. "I told you this was a bad idea. You see what happens when I take squires. They make themselves so indispensable that I grow attached. They get into so many scrapes that my hair is in danger of turning grey. And then they run off and get knighted and marry and leave me to the mercy of the two most dangerous knights in Tortall."

"On the contrary, I think it was an excellent idea," Kel said. "Everyone's gotten exactly what he or she deserves."

"Indeed," Wyldon murmured, watching as Neal attempted to use Selena as a shield. "Indeed we have."

_So, yes it's the end of an era. I want to thank two "sources". First, the BBC(?) show To Serve Them All of My Days, which is about a boarding school in post WWI England and gave me the idea that a teacher could be such a central character. Second, Jane Espenson's blog, which is geared towards screenwriters, but gives great advice on crafting plot and dialogue and which I recommend for all aspiring writers and food critics. It's at __ thanks again to all the wonderful reviewers who kept me going. Writing this has been tremendously entertaining and it gave me the confidence I needed to finish writing my first original fantast novel. I plan to devote the summer to revising it, but I can't leave Kel and Penelope behind entirely so I hope to post some one-shot sequels soon. _

_Best wishes to everyone for a terrific summer of reading and writing! _


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